Roses and Blood
by AngeliqueBouchard1972
Summary: Ursa falls for him when they are young and untested, and her naïveté is not apparent to her, but she will know it soon enough. She does not know fear; she yearns to know him. Ursa/Ozai. Ignores the comics. Rated M.
1. midnight

_"Little girls, this seems to say / Never stop upon your way / Never trust a stranger friend / No-one knows how it will end / As you're pretty, so be wise / Wolves may lurk in every guise / Now as then, 'tis simple truth / Sweetest tongue has sharpest tooth." - The Company of Wolves_

* * *

The night is thick with stars when he first sees her. She stands in the gardens with discontent written on her face, the soft light of the party reflecting onto her pale face. They distant sounds of the court music and the light chatter of nobles can be heard, but he tunes everything out. She is out here for the same reason he is, surely. Ozai can't stand parties. Not only because he prefers his solitude but because it is unbearable to stand witness to his father lay countless compliments upon his brother and receive none himself.

He approaches, slowly, quietly, like approaching a timid animal. He is scared he will scare her off if he simply announces his presence. Upon closer inspection he notices that she wears the traditional robes of Hira'a, the island state from the south. He wonders if she is related to Avatar Roku, but does not ask.

In an uncommon moment of apprehension, he fingers the sleeves of his robes, unsure of what to say to her. She is beautiful and the moon is high and he does not trust himself. He does not often court women, like his brother. His wonderings are cut short when she turns around, first seeing his long royal robes in the dewy grass and quickly looking up to see his face. Ozai watches her physically stiffen and blink rapidly.

"Your majesty," she breathes, "forgive me, I-" Ozai cuts her off with a simple wave of his hand.

"There is no need for that." He takes a steps towards her and peers over the party for a moment, then he looks back to her. Her gaze is locked onto his, and he notices her eyes. They are darker than his, like dark rich amber.

"You are the granddaughter of Avatar Roku, aren't you?" He asks calmly, not breaking eye contact. She immediately looks down and inhales shakily. This is a delicate subject. Of course it must be, he mentally scolds himself, after the shame on her family.

"Yes, Prince Ozai. I am Ursa Miyagi." She looks ashamed. Without thinking about it, he reaches out to gently grasp her chin and make her look him in the eyes. He is a full head higher than her, but it still feels very intimate for mere acquaintances. She wonders what her parents would think.

"Do not worry about that. I would not judge you for crimes you did not commit." He takes his hand away from her. The contact was inappropriate. Suddenly, her gaze changes a bit. She takes him in for the first time. Not many people talk about the second prince. Young ladies, mostly, because he is young and handsome. Ozai is his name. She thinks of the things people have said about him. Brilliant, talented, but overshadowed by his brother. Cold as ice, they say about the second born, ruthless. Ursa does not know him and wishes if she should. She is not afraid, she does not know fear, but she is still apprehensive to make a personal connection with a prince. Especially one so intimidating.

"Thank you," she says gently, "Not everyone here in Caldera thinks that way."

"Mm," he replies, "Yes. This city can be very intransigent." He is looking back at the party and Ursa studies his face. He speaks like a noble, but he is still so young. He couldn't be that much older than her. His jaw and his nose are sharp, but his skin and his hair are smooth, and he reeks of wealth. Something about him is a bit unsettling, though. There is something not quite right with him. Something tells him he is no Prince Charming. There is something dark in his gaze, however kind he seems to be.

"Is that why you left the party?" She asks, and immediately regrets it. She does not know how to talk to royalty. She is surprised when Ozai chuckles in response.

"Not exactly. It's only that I do not care for large crowds." She huffed lightly in agreement. She looked upon his now smirking face. She thinks she likes his smile better. IT makes him seem lighter.

"Neither do I," she paused, "I needed some air." Ozai smiled gently, observing her silken kimono. He liked her. She wasn't like most girls in court that he never gave the time of day. He turned to fully face her.

"This must be a bit of a shock, coming to the capital from Hira'a." She almost takes insult, but realises that he had not meant it in a demeaning way. She is from a humble coastal town, after all.

"Yes. We do not have parties like this." She nods and then tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, still looking at the party. She wants to return now. She is weary of this conversation, even though he has said nothing of alarm. Ursa notices that he is staring at her, but she does not look back at him. She is afraid it will be inappropriate. Instead, she looks down at the red roses. Ozai reaches down and picks one, and hands it to her.

"To compliment your beauty." His voice is quiet and like silk. She immediately shifts, meeting his gaze with wide eyes as she looks to the flower. He was the Prince. She was just a minor noble's daughter. She realizes that he must not care. Somehow her heart soars. She wants to return the compliment, but she just stares up in him.

"Walk with me. I promise I won't talk too much." He smiles again and holds out his arm. She accepts it and walks with him. His arm is strong and she blushes. The rose has pricked her and she drops it, the blood on her fingers forgotten when she melts under his gaze.

A/N: I hope you like this. Please review if you want more! I will probably continue this soon. It will be fragmented scenes and chapters.


	2. flowers in vases

Chapter Two

Ursa looks out her window over the caldera. She takes a seat on the windowsill and curls up against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest. On the window seat there rests a large bouquet of red roses and fire lilies. When it came there was only a note that said, 'I want to see you again'. Ursa had blushed and hastily taken it into her room. She was still unsure. She wasn't sure if she should respond. She wasn't sure if she wanted people to know that she had attracted the attention of the prince.

"Ursa, I'm coming in," her mother said as she slid the paper door to the side. Ursa turned around to sit properly and rest her arms in her lap.

"What is it, mother?" Ursa asked quietly, but her mother had already noticed the roses. She approached with her mouth open.

"Who is this from, Ursa?" She asked, fingering the note beside it. Ursa swallowed. Before she said anything, her mother had read the note and was looking down at her with furrowed brows.

"They're from Prince Ozai," she said under her breath. The sun had just set and her mother's features were more harsh in the moonlight.

"Prince Ozai?" Her mother looked shocked, like she should be. Her mouth still hung open. She sat on the window seat besides her daughter and looked her over speculatively.

"I met him at the banquet."

"And now he's sending you flowers? Oh my. Only one meeting and he's sending gifts. You must have made quite an impression on him..." Her mother seemed to be thinking to herself for a moment and Ursa looked again at the roses. She remembers the way he felt. He was so warm.

"Well," her mother said before Ursa even knew she was staring, "What happened? I didn't even see you two together. How did you meet?"

"I went out to the garden to get some fresh air, and he found me in the gardens." Her mother liked her lips.

"What did he say to you? What was he like?" She asked. Her family was not high enough nobility to approach members of the royal family directly, so she was the only one who had met him. Ursa breathed a sigh.

"He..." She started, unsure, "He is very handsome." She says, because she thinks of no way to describe him with words. There is something in his eyes, she thinks, something calculating and sad.

"Well, yes, dear. He is. And young," she speculates, "Unmarried too." Ursa huffs.

"What?" Her mother asks.

"Of course he's unmarried, if he was married he wouldn't be sending me gifts." Her mother purses her lips.

"Ursa, you don't know these royal type. Many get married for political benefit only..." she continued, "He could have been married and sent you the roses anyway. Men are like that, if they're infatuated."

"Well he's not infatuated with me, he can't be, we've only met once." Her mother looked up and smiled at her gently.

"I think he is dear. I've heard that Ozai is a man who prefers his solitude. He must be interested in you to send these... and to ask you to see him again! He must like you." Ursa bit her lip. She is still thinking of him.

"Aren't you excited, dear? Do you not like him? This would be wonderful for our family!" Her mother exclaims, touching her leg. Ursa wants to find trouble with that, to think that her relationship should be private, but she doesn't. Her mother is right. It would be great for her family to be tied to the royals again.

"If a prince marries you, my dear, things could be so much better for us. For our name. It would wash away the sins of my father." Ursa nods, thinking of her grandfather Avatar.

"Yes, mother." She says obediently. Her mother shifts closer.

"Tell me about him. Why don't you like him?" She asks. Ursa scowles.

"I do, mother. I do. It's just..." She purses her lips in mirror of her mother and looks at the floor.

"What, child?" Ursa lets out a breath.

"He's intimidating. This whole city is. He's so smart, and well-mannered. Why would he want me?" She wonders aloud, looking up to her mother's greying features.

"Because you are a beauty, dear. I'm sure he can't help but see that. And you are quite well-mannered, no matter that you are not from here." Rina lifts her chin. She inspects her daughter's fair face.

"Perhaps he likes that you are different from the people here. Maybe he likes that you are unique." She smiles a bit, "And of course he is intimidating dear, men like these are. He probably reminds you of Sozin, with that dark hair and those broad shoulders." Her mother is looking out the window now, thinking of the man who killed her father. A silence passes.

"He's so tall," Ursa thinks. Rina stands.

"He would be a good match for you, I think. We'll see, darling. Perhaps you will grow to like him as you get to know him." Ursa makes a noncommittal noise and fingers the hem of her nightdress.

"Perhaps I will."


	3. letters

**A/N: I hope you enjoy! Please leave a comment!  
**

Chapter Three

The morning is early, the dew still sticking to the blades of grass on the lawn. After a week of waiting, Ursa and her mother had almost given up hope that Ozai would send for her. Perhaps she was not so entrancing as her mother thought. The prince would have to contact her first, or all was lost. A low noble like her couldn't send him correspondence unless he wrote to her first. The young courier knocked politely on the door. Her father set down his chopsticks and wiped his face with a napkin before walking to the door. Ursa and her mother looked up at him as he spoke,

"Who could this be so early in the morning?" He almost grumbled, shuffling towards the entryway in his house slippers. Her father opened the door, greeted the courier politely and took the letter, closing the door behind him as he made his way back to the dining room. Ursa sat patiently on the tatami mat, taking small sips of her miso. She watched with her mother as Jinsuk inspected the note and scowled, flipping it over in his hand.

"Who is it from, Jinsuk?" Rina asked, chopsticks in hand. He looked at her briefly before quickly moving on to Ursa. He kneeled back down at the table and stared at his daughter.

"It's for Ursa. But it doesn't make any sense," he paused, looking down at the royal seal, "It's from the palace. Look at the seal, it must be a mistake." Ursa took a sharp breath inward. Her mother sighed happily beside her.

"I knew he would send for you, Ursa. It was only a matter of time." She smirked and glanced proudly at her daughter. Jinsuk but it,

"Who would send for her? What is going on?" He asked, louder than before. Ursa had told her mother not to tell her father until they were sure Ozai truly was interested in her.

"It's Prince Ozai. Ursa met him at the ball, dear, and he was infatuated with her. He sent flowers nearly a week ago." Her mother took a sip of water, still smiling.

"Fire Prince Ozai? He spoke to you?" Jinsuk asked in disbelief.

"Is that so unbelievable, Jinsuk?" She was slightly angered, "That a prince could be interested in our daughter?" Jinsuk said nothing, he just leaned back and looked at the table, thinking.

"She is very fair, and healthy. She could bear him many fine children." Ursa snapped to look at her.

"Mother!" She nearly shouted, a fierce blush on her cheeks. Jinsuk straightened.

"There is more to marriage than that." He says unhappily. Her mother scowls.

"I'm aware of that, dear. I was trying to say that there is no reason he shouldn't consider her. There is no reason for you to think it strange," she says assuredly, picking up her chopsticks again, "He is of the appropriate age. Nearly twenty." Jinsuk looks between his daughter and his wife.

"It is not our lack of wealth that concerns me, dear. You think he truly would not mind Ursa's ancestry?" He turned to his wife.

"We made ourselves right with the Firelord. We told him we supported his father's decision. That feud is behind us." Her tone was sharp. Ursa set down her bowl.

"Father, he did bring it up with me," Ursa's tone was much softer than her mother's, "He said that he would not judge me for something I haven't done." Jinsuk tilted his chin upwards.

"Is that so?" He searched her, almost to check if she was lying or not. Ursa hummed in response.

"Well by all means, the letter will speak for itself. Read it, Ursa," Her mother persisted. Ursa reached across the table and took the letter as her father took a sip of tea, thinking to himself. She fingered the seal, opening it with her nail.

 _To Lady Ursa, firstborn daughter of Rina and Jinsuk, overseers of the Hira'a Province,_

 _I apologize for not writing sooner. I have been quite busy. I very much want to see you again, my Lady. You are most enchanting. I implore you, do not leave the city. Do not return to your provence just yet, I must see you again. Would you be so kind to grant me your presence again? Visit the palace this evening for tea ceremony, if you will, and forgive me for the short notice. My father will be there, and possibly my brother if he returns soon enough. Do not worry about a thing, I will send a servant over later with a dress and carriage. I'm sure I could send nothing to properly compliment your beauty, but I will try._

 _Until we meet again,_

 _Ozai_

Ursa smiled slightly. _You are most enchanting._ Her mother and father had both been watching her the entire time. She almost blushed.

"Well," her mother started, "What did he say?" Her father frowned a bit.

"He says he wants to see me again. He has invited me for a formal tea ceremony at the palace," Ursa looked back at the letter, "Tonight." Her mother made a noise of excitement.

"Darling," she said as she leaned over to touch her shoulder, "That's wonderful! I knew he fancied you." Her father sighed, though not angrily. Ursa looked to him.

"And you, dear? What do you think of him?" He stared at her deeply, searching for something in her amber eyes.

"I barely know him, father," she said, too nervous at the prospect of meeting the Firelord so soon to pick up her chopsticks. He furrowed his brows.

"He is not spoken of very much. The only thing I know about him is his intelligence, and his age, I suppose." Rina smiled again.

"He would be a good match, I think! He is handsome, and tall. Brilliant!" She laughed slightly, "Agni knows I would have jumped at the chance to marry someone like him when I was younger." Ursa flushed and stared wide-eyed at her mother.

"Mother, don't say such things to father, you'll wound him," she reprimanded. But her father was still looking at her, searching.

"Is he kind?" Her father was completely serious. "Firelord Azulon is certainly not known for his amiable nature." Ursa frowned, looking at the letter in her hands. She almost shakes at the prospect of seeing his father.

"He has only been kind to me," Ursa remarks, thinking of Ozai's silken words.

"Let me read the letter, Ursa. I'll calm your father," her mother insisted as she extended her arm. Ursa froze.

"No!" Ursa said hastily as Rina tried to grab it. She clutched it close and lowered her gaze, fearful she would be reprimanded for speaking out. She swallowed thickly.

"It's personal. I don't want anyone else to read it." Her father scowled, his frown growing deeper.

"Personal? What in Agni's name is that supposed to mean?" Ursa scowled as well, looking up at her mother. There was nothing to keep private, Ursa just wanted her parents to not tell her what to do.

"Nothing, it's just - it's just for me, that's all," she explained assuredly.

"It's just for you?" Her father was growing angry. She retreated a bit. Why was he so upset? Ursa licked her lips.

"It's addressed to me, father," she said loudly, "not anyone else. I'm an adult now. I can make decisions for myself."

"Did you let him touch you?" Her father asked in a sound like a growl. He was never like this.

"No!" She shouted, upset at the idea of her father thinking of such things.

"I barely know him, father." Jinsuk straightened, confidently.

"Then you'll let me read the letter. If you have nothing to hide, let me see it." He was sure of himself, and something in Ursa boiled. She was sick of being dealt with like a child.

Suddenly, she stood, extending the letter hastily.

"Fine then! Let me have no privacy in any facet of my life. Read my private letters for no reason, what do I care?" Ursa never usually speaks out like this. But now she is nineteen. She is no longer a child, she thinks, she has been noticed by royalty. Surely the Prince would not care for a weakling, she thinks.

"Ursa!" Her mother reprimands, but it is too late, and Ursa is already walking towards the center gardens of the house. Jinsuk raises a hand,

"Let her be," he says, "We will read this letter from the Prince. Let us see what he wants from our daughter." He removes the parchment and reads it over, scanning each line. Rina is sitting next to him.

"Well? What did he say then?" She tries to read over his shoulder, but Jinsuk holds the letter in his lap. He glances out the door to look upon his daughter, standing by the cherry blossoms. Her hand is upon the bark, her long brown hair flowing behind her. Jinsuk inhales deeply,

"He has fallen for her, indeed."


	4. lips of blood

Chapter Four

Ursa sits patiently at the low table. It's mahogany wood is glossy, and it extends quite far. It is bare except for a low arrangement of various flowers and gold-painted strings. She fiddles with the obijime - the thick sash tied around her waist. It is foreign. She is not used to such rich fabric such as this, gift from the Prince. It is vibrant red, laced with dragons, accented by the intricate sash. Everything is foreign. The houses look different in Hira'a, her home. Although, the palace is not a home, she reminds herself. It is much too vast to be called a home. She looks across the room, taking in her surroundings. She has just arrived, and did not take the time to look around.

The floor is deep mahogany, same as the low table. A thick rug lies underneath the table, and many silken cushions rest upon it. Ursa goes to touch her face, but stops herself. Her mother had done her makeup, assembled her hair. Ursa barely remembers it - the entire day had gone by in a flash. Rina had said so many things. Mind your manners, speak only when spoken to, carry out the tea ceremony properly, don't disappoint. _Make a good impression on the Firelord_. At that memory, Ursa took a sharp breath. He would be there in just a few moments, she was told by a servant. She looked at her reflection in the decorative mirrors to the left of the table. Her hair was tied up, her posture straight. Various jade and ruby hairpins decorated her scalp, mimicking the paint on her lips. There was light blush on her cheeks, and a bit of kohl around her eyes. She did not look herself, she thought. She looked more mature. As soon as she thought it, she scowled and looked away from the mirror. She should look mature, she told herself, she was meeting royalty. She was no longer a child. She should not be shaken by such things.

A pair of guards entered the room suddenly, the sound of their heavy armor echoing in the vastness of the palace. They stood on either side of the large doorway, staffs in hand. Ursa straightened a bit.

"His majesty, Fire Lord Azulon," one of them said. Ursa took a deep breath. Azulon entered then, royal robes billowing at his ankles. She bowed to him completely once he caught her eye, bending as far as she could at the table without fully kowtowing to him.

"Lady Ursa," he spoke, his deep voice raspy and regal at the same time, "Let us have a look at you, dear." Ursa blinked, unaware of anyone else in the room. She gracefully lifted her head and sat up completely. Just behind the Firelord stood Ozai, regal as ever in very dark burgundy robes. She looked back to his majesty, wondering if she should say something. Azulon smiled and hummed in approval to himself.

"Very beautiful, yes," he said approvingly. Her heart beat rapidly in his chest. Even though he had complimented her, his presence alone was terrifying. She attempted a smile, lowering her head to accept a compliment.

"Thank you, your Majesty," she said, attempting to sound regal. A few other nobles entered the room as well. Ozai sat across from her, and when she blushes he smirks. He speaks little, and most of the conversation is between between Azulon and the other nobles, but it still excites her. She is dining with the royal family. Ursa says what she is supposed to say, how she has practiced, and carries out the tea ceremony as her mother taught her. Azulon does not smile at her again, but he looks at her from time to time, and watches her closely as she pours the tea. She thinks he at least does not despise her. When the ceremony is over and the Firelord and the other nobles have left. Ozai smiles again, speaking freely now.

"The dress suits you. I knew it would," he breathes. Her face lightens.

"Thank you. It's beautiful," she says, looking at him for the first time. She was too afraid to look at him during the ceremony. Perhaps because he intimidates her and it would be inappropriate, and perhaps because she would be afraid she would not be able to look away again. He looks like he does in his portraits. His black, glossy hair is tied up. Ursa imagines running her fingers through it. His crown sparkles. Suddenly, he turns around, hearing the sound of the guards departing along with his father.

"Just a moment," he says, "Do not leave yet, please." Ursa nods as he stands.

"Of course," she agrees. He goes out into the hallway. After a minute or so he returns. She stands near the doorway, smoothing out her kimono and frowns a bit when she sees that her lip rouge is gone. She snaps to look at Ozai when he steps close to her, smiling. His gaze pierces her, keeping her in place, even though he is only happy.

"My father likes you," Ozai says quietly, "He approves." Ursa blinks several times. She looks up at him.

"Approves?" She asks, "Of me?"

"Of our courtship." Ursa leans back a bit and looks across the darkened hallway. It was nighttime now. When she looks back to him, he is scowling, standing straighter. His shoulders are broad and for a moment he frightens her.

"Do you-do you not wish for this?" He asks, seemingly hurt in some way. She blinks, her brows furrowing as well.

"What do you mean?" She asks, and rushes to continue, "I-I don't know what to say."

"You don't fancy me," he says with a not of finality, and turns. His profile is outlined as he looks away from her, the soft light of the room smoothing his features. He is beautiful.

"No," she says quickly, coming to face him again, "I do. I just- I barely know you is all."

She says everything in earnest, and watches his expression. His brows are still knit together, but he now looks curious, not distressed.

"I do fancy you, Ozai," she reassures him. In a moment of uncharacteristic confidence, and without thinking, she reaches up to cup his face. The prince inhales sharply at her touch. It is inappropriate to touch royalty. She screams internally at herself. Quickly, she removes her hand, but before she can do anything, he leans forward and kisses her. Ozai's hand is holding hers, the hand that reached for him, and he brings it to his chest as he kisses her fully. His lips capture hers, and she stills completely, her heart beating wildly in her breast. She has never kissed anyone before. But it would be terrible to just stand there and disappoint the prince, she thinks, and she returns the kiss the best she can. Her hands rest upon his clothed chest, feeling the hardness of his chest underneath.

She can barely breathe, but he doesn't stop. Ursa has no idea why she imagined his lips to feel cool. Ozai is radiating warmth. He takes a hand from her waist to hold her neck, and she leans into his touch. His tongue is relentless and much better practiced than hers, but she learns quickly. Eventually, he breaks the kiss.

Ursa doesn't even realise the heaviness of her own breathing. She removes her hands from his chest and tries to stand still without her knees buckling underneath her. Something is pulsing through her, like adrenaline, racing through her core. Ozai is staring at her deeply, and from this close his eyes are even more intense. They are piercing, and the color of them is honestly that of gold. It looks as if flecks of the metal are actually melted into his irises. Then, his expression changes. She suddenly wonders if he is a bit concerned. He looks as if perhaps he was second guessing kissing her. But then there is a sound of someone clearing their throat, and the moment is lost altogether. They both turn quickly.

Prince Iroh stands in the middle of the hallway, a bit away from them. Ozai immediately straightens. Ursa is so uneasy at the sight of him, her stomach turns over. She was not supposed to let men touch her. Her breathing is quick now. Everyone has seen her in her lust, she thinks, even though it is only Iroh. _Whore._ Her parents words ring sharply in her ears.

"Brother," Ozai exclaims and then swallows. She looks to him and is momentarily relieved that she is not the only one that looks a bit uncomfortable. He bows and Ursa takes another step away from him as he approaches his brother. Ozai bends, as if to bow to his superior, but Iroh holds him fast. He is a full head taller than his elder brother, and the hug looks a bit awkward, but it is still sweet, Ursa thinks. Her breathing finally begins to calm when Iroh speaks,

"It is so good to see you, Ozai," Iroh says warmly as he releases him, "It has been too long." Iroh had been away at war for many months, near the fronts. Ozai takes a step away from him, and Ursa cannot see whether he is smiling or not.

"Indeed." Iroh turns, still smiling, and looks to Ursa standing in the doorway. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but Ozai cuts him off.

"I was just showing her out," he says quickly as Ursa silently bows, "I'll be back in a minute." Ursa looks at him as he moves down the hallway and waits for her to follow him. She picks up her skirts and follows him out. She wonders why he did not even introduce her. Perhaps he was simply uncomfortable discussing such things. Agni knows she was, her blush was creeping farther up her cheeks. When they reach the door he turns to her, exhaling.

"That was so embarrassing," she says under her breath, licking her lips and thinking of their kiss. He looks up at her.

"Yes-yes it was," he breathes, "I'm sorry. I had no idea he had returned, of course he would be looking for me." He says and Ursa shakes her head, her hair ornaments swaying along with her movement.

"Don't worry about that," she says, still blushing. He takes her hands in his then, and looks up at him. He is so warm. A true firebender, she thinks. His thumb runs across her fingers as he speaks,

"Thank you for coming. I must apologize again, for leaving, but my brother-" he breaks off off. Ursa smirks.

"I understand." He exhales again and runs the back of his fingers over her cheek. His touch burns despite its gentility.

"I'll write to you," he says, "soon." She smiles. No longer is her entire life small. There is more now than just pleasing her parents and doing as she is told, and it makes something in her burn. He is like fire. He is the closest she will ever get to the real thing.

A/N: Please review and favorite this story! I appreciate it so much!


	5. gifts

Chapter Five

When Ozai returned to his brother he was smirking. He stiffened, remembering what Iroh had witnessed, he only smiled wider. He took a few strides forward.

"So who is she?" Iroh asked as he grasped Ozai's shoulders, knowing that his brother was not one to go pronouncing around with women. He was never that much of a romantic, always quite reserved around everyone, except on the rare occasion that Iroh could get him drunk. This girl seemed different. Ozai was quiet for a moment, his expression odd. Iroh eventually realised that it was the physical closeness between them. He released his grasp on him quickly and he watched as Ozai visibly relaxed. He had never been one for physical contact.

"Her name is Ursa," the younger prince said, looking towards the gates, "She magistrate Jinsuk's daughter." Iroh blinked.

"Lady Rina's husband?" Iroh asked, pausing. He looked at his brother when he said nothing.

"Avatar Roku's granddaughter?" Iroh almost gasped. Ozai snapped his attention back to him.

"Yes. His only living descendant." Ozai's formality had returned. Iroh didn't like that.

"And?" The crown prince asked, swatting him with his hand.

"And?" Ozai scowled. Iroh huffed and raised his eyebrows.

"What's she like? What did I miss? I didn't come home from war to find my little brother kissing some stranger only to hear nothing about it." Iroh's tone was light and Ozai exhaled.

"Come with me, I want you to tell me all about it," he said, elbowing his brother. Ozai scoffed, but secretly he was excited. He was excited because for once the attention was on him and not the crown Prince.

* * *

Ursa sat in the living room watching the sunset end, the inky black of the sky bleeding into the light. She admired the streaks of red and pink that stained the sky like blood. It reminded her of home. There, she would always sit on the beach in summer while the sun set, the sand cool underneath her feet, and enjoy her comfortable solitude. It felt good. In the capital, however, she was a perfect young lady. There was no late night strolls and no beach escapades.

And so she sat, still and patient, her small hands daintily sipping her tea. The garden here was beautiful. It was situated in the center of the house, with the many rooms surrounding it. Ursa was on the ground floor, in the extra tatami room that no one used. She sighed lightly, thinking of Ozai. It was a strange feeling she got when she thought of him. Ursa had mixed emotions, she supposed. Every time she thought of him her heart beat faster, and not entirely because of affection. She supposed that her nerves were in fact warranted. People called him reckless, a firebrand. She immediately thought of the kiss and forgot to breathe.

She took another sip of tea, enjoying how it burned in her throat. It reminded her of him. He was so warm, even through his thick robes. When she had touched his cheek the skin there was flawlessly smooth and hot to the touch. Before she lost herself in the moment, there was a knock on the door. Ursa set down her tea and stood quickly, walking towards the foyer. She walked out from behind the rice paper divide, coming to stand in the doorway. She turned her head to look behind her, and when she saw no one there, she decided to answer the door herself.

"Hello," she said, bowing her head quickly. The young boy in front of her bowed deeply,

"Good evening, Lady Ursa," he said, and Ursa noticed his servant attire, and a carriage behind him.

"I have come on Fire Prince Ozai's behalf. He sends gifts for you, my lady," the servant boy explained. Ursa didn't know what to think, so she simply turned to look at the carriage as the boy turned around and went to the carriage. He opened the doors at the rear and removed a large box, then a vase with flowers, and finally a separate note, closed with the royal seal. Ursa huffed in excitement and possibly awe. She had only seen him yesterday.

"Will you take them inside, please?" Ursa asked politely, stepping to the side. The boy nodded and quickly brought the gifts into the foyer, and handed Ursa the note. She smiled at him,

"Thank you." She ran her thumb across the rice paper. He bowed again at the waist.

"You are welcome my lady. Good evening," the boy said and then turned and walked back to the royal carriage. Hearing the horses, her mother walked over from the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel.

"Ursa?" Rina asked her daughter, "What's this?" She gesticulated to the gifts on the floor.

"They're from Ozai, I think," she said softly, opening the letter in her palm. Her mother walked over to the box and looked it over while Ursa read.

 _To Lady Ursa, firstborn daughter of Rina and Jinsuk, overseers of the Hira'a province,_

 _I cannot write much now, and for that I apologize, preparations are beginning for an Earth Kingdom mission I am involved in. For now, I must dedicate the majority of time to the war effort. It is possible that I will be deployed within the next month. I beg you, my lady, stay in the caldera a few weeks longer. I must see you again before my likely departure. I hope that the gifts I send will quell your unrest until we can meet once more. Tell me what you want Ursa, name it, and it shall be yours. You deserve everything I could give you and more. None of that compares, of course, to the ambrosia of being in your company, but I digress. Write to me soon._

 _Your Prince,_

 _Ozai_

Ursa lowered the letter once she had read it and bit her lip. He was most certainly persistent. But his romance had a certain hardness to it, she thought. With every gift came demands, expectations. Ursa had a strong feeling that he almost always got what he wanted. Something in that scared her. But her bad feelings were quenched when she looked down to the box. Her mother had opened it, and she pulled out a smaller box that was just on the inside. Rina turned to set it on the table and opened the lid. Inside there were a whole arrangement of amezaiku - traditional intricate candies shaped to look just like flowers and animals. It must have cost a fortune. When she saw the center one she smiled, seeing that it was in the shape of a panda. He remembered. It was her favorite animal.

"How beautiful," Rina said, picking up an extremely intricate coy fish, engraved with scales and fins and even eyes that sparkled where the light hit them. She looked over to see her daughter smiling and laughed a little.

"Did you tell him about the panda?" She asked, and Ursa nodded bashfully. For a moment, they both laughed. It seemed so giddy, they thought, to have a Prince of the Fire Nation know her favorite animal.

"These must have cost a fortune," Rina remarked, and Ursa didn't say that she had been thinking exactly the same thing. They were much too beautiful to ever eat.

"Well, let's see the rest," her mother continued, walking over to the box. She pulled out a heavy silk fabric, made up of both light blue and light purple, the colors intertwined beautifully in the design. Below that was the sash, to wear with the kimono. It was pale green, embroidered with silver thread. Her mother sighed.

"Gorgeous." She held up the kimono so Ursa could see it. She smiled. As her father walked into the room, Rina moved the flowers to the dining table, smelling the fire lilies. Jinsuk scowled,

"What is this? More gifts?" He asked, walking over to the flowers. Rina smiled,

"Yes. From the Prince," her tone unusually cheery as she arranged the flowers in the vase.

Jinsuk came up behind her and placed his hand on her waist, reaching down to grasp the letter Ursa had set down.

"May I read this, dear?" He asked, looking to his daughter. Her large amber eyes stilled, and she tilted her head to the side, thinking.

"I... alright," she said. Rina turned around to look at them both. She pursed her lips and then shook her head once she saw Ursa's expression.

"Jinsuk, no," she said, trying to convince him, "Let's give her some space. She is nineteen, she is old enough to have her privacy." Her husband turned to look at her, studying her greying face, thinking. He sighed and watched his daughter as she looked between them, biting her lip. Jinsuk loved her deeply, and he hoped that she knew what she was doing. There was no going back now.

A/N: Please, please, please review! I love them so much, they keep me going. And don't worry, Ozai won't go for long.


	6. the dragon and the pheonix

A/N: Look for symbolism in this chapter, I'll give you a shout out if you notice!

Please review!

It was Sozin's birthday. The whole palace was buzzing with activity, servants running about setting up for the party that would take place after sunset. Ozai had just walked out of his rooms. He had wanted to take breakfast alone, but he had gotten a letter from a servant telling him Iroh wanted to dine with him. Ozai nearly shut the door in his servant's face.

Sighing, Ozai straightened his shoulders and tried to shake off his anger. It was unbecoming of royalty, he knew, but he couldn't stop the sour feeling at the pit of his stomach. He hated Iroh. He didn't want to see him. But that isn't proper, so Ozai put on his mask of feigned indifference. He knocked on the door to Iroh's rooms. They were even larger than his, reserved especially for the prince regent. And there he was, only a moment later, opening the door with a wide smile. Ozai squinted immediately. Iroh had drawn all the shades in his rooms and the sunlight was nearly blinding on this side of the palace. Ozai's rooms were much darker in comparison.

"Ozai! Good morning," Iroh was practically beaming, and it took a considerable amount of effort to contort his face into a smile. Iroh was guiding him inside, his hand on Ozai's arm.

"Good morning brother." Ozai blinked at the blinding light. He could already feel a headache coming on. They were only in the threshold of his rooms.

"Sit, sit," Iroh encouraged. Ozai obliged, tucking his robes beneath him comfortably.

"How are you? I haven't seen much of you the past few days." Ozai looked at the table, noticing that it's beautiful glossy surface had nothing on it. Ozai realized that Iroh probably wanted to drag this out as far as possible. He looked up at the crown prince, already so old. So much older than him. Nearly forty-two. He could have done this at any time before, when Ozai was younger. But instead, he had been ignored. Was he trying to make up for it now? Ozai expected so, but he knew his brother was trying to achieve a worthless pursuit. The small, naive boy that Ozai had been was long gone. He no longer wanted Iroh's attention. Not really. And if he wanted to never spend time with Ozai, that was fine. He had given up trying to hold Iroh's attention for years.

"I'm doing well," Ozai's voice was silky and deep. I displayed none of his thoughts. He no longer wore his heart on his sleeve. Iroh poured some tea into Ozai's cup. He took a sip.

"And you?" Ozai asked, enjoying the way the tea burned in his throat. Iroh grinned at his brother's words, pouring tea for himself.

"Very well! I'm so glad to be back. I've been gone so long I feel more like a stranger in this palace than I should. And it's such a joy to see everyone," he looked up after taking a small sip, "and to see you, of course, brother." Ozai smirked and then looked out the windows, wondering how it would feel to stab the letter opener into Iroh's neck. Before he could explore the fantasy two servants entered and set down identical bamboo trays, painted red and black in tiny, intricate designs. The rich aroma of the food quickly overcame the room. Iroh grinned with excitement in his eyes akin to his young son as he saw the food in front of him. Ozai set down his cup. This meal could not go fast enough. Unfortunately for him, however, a day of festival called for even more elaborate and plentiful dishes than normal. His tray was covered with various porcelain plates and utensils. There was grilled salmon-eel with steaming rice, pickled vegetables, fragrant miso soup, seaweed wraps, and tamagoyaki - a rolled omelet.

"Thank you," Iroh beamed at one of the servants, "This might be what I missed the most! Good food!" Ozai chuckled out of courtesy and calmly ate his breakfast, imagining slitting his throat.

By the time that night drew in, Ozai's spirits had thankfully improved. Ursa had arrived around an hour ago. They stood in the courtyard, underneath the warm light of the lanterns strung across. Ursa was wearing the Kimono he gave her, he small waist accented by the obi. She looked gorgeous. He knew she would. Ozai asks her to dance and she accepts. They perform the Bon Odori dance, done to commemorate their ancestors. Later, when they are walking along the edge of the party, he glances to the statue of Sozin. He can only wish that his descendants will worship him the way he did Sozin. They way everyone worshipped Sozin. He was like a god incarnate: omnipresent and revered unconditionally, the perfect beacon of power and strength. Ursa sees Ozai's eyes on the statue of his ancestor, contemplative, but she does not smile. She looks too.

Sozin stands there, forged in gold and bronze, unsmiling. His face is set in a solemn, yet still burning expression. It's the eyes. They are the key to his character. On an otherwise impassive, calm expression, Sozin's eyes burn like an inferno. She could see things in his gaze, underneath the gauze of mystery. He wants power, glory, immortality. He wants everything. Why does that look seem familiar? She wonders. Then, she turns to Ozai. There are no more questions.

"You have his eyes," she states. There is no emotion in her voice. Ozai cocks a brow and turns to look at her.

"My grandfather's?" He asks, and she can't help but notice how in the past Ozai had always referred to his father as Fire Lord Azulon, and yet he draws familial connection between himself and Sozin immediately.

"Yes. I think so." Ozai looks back to the statue, thinking.

"What do you think of this holiday?" He asks, and she wonders why he says it. There is something different in his gaze now, something searching. He isn't just making small talk. He was talking about her opinion of Sozin as a whole. Her gaze quickly flickered to the statue and then back to him. Sozin. Her grandfather's greatest enemy. Her grandmother said that Sozin killed him. Murdered him in cold blood up on the edge of the volcano, struck him dead where he stood. Ursa blinked away the thought.

"It's one of my favorites," she remarked calmly, "why shouldn't it be? Sozin was the best ruler in history." She looked up at him. Suddenly she realized how he was tall, and broad in the shoulder. She noticed his dark, silky black hair and his strong jaw. Suddenly she was drawing comparisons she didn't really want to.

"I respect him." Ursa said, and as she did it burned like acid down her throat. She wholeheartedly accepted that statement on the surface, but denied it deep inside. Deep inside she knew that Sozin must have killed him. Killed her grandfather. Something in her felt sour, her own lies boiling in the pit of her stomach. Ozai smiled, just barely. She had answered correctly.

"As do I." Ozai turned to the statue again, "He was a great leader." Only sometimes did Ursa notice his accent, well defined by his rank in the social class, sharp and smooth at the same time. Only the richest spoke with such an accent. Momentarily Ursa wondered if he was stressing it on purpose. To prove a point. To prove that he would be a great leader to, as if he deserved it. Then she corrected herself, wondering if she was going mad. Iroh was the heir inherit. He was the crown prince. Not Ozai. Surely she was making it up. Maybe she wasn't hearing him right. It was loud after all, the musicians and the people trying to talk over one another. As Ozai was pursuing the yard, Ursa picked up the present she had brought with her.

"I brought you something," she said softly, holding up the small box. Ozai turned to her fully, scowling lightly.

"You did? Why?" Ozai protested, "You had no need to get me anything in return."

"I know. I got it for you anyway." She smiled this time.

Ozai opened the lid, not knowing what to expect. It was a tiny black dragon, made of blown glass. Ozai chuckled only lightly, but his rich tenor still filled the room. It was cute.

"It's you. It's your _seishin_ \- your spirit animal." Ozai raised an eyebrow, and then he understood. It was a common gift between lovers in the southern isles. Giving the other their spirit animal. Ozai quickly understood the implication. She likely wanted to marry him.

"A dragon?" Ursa nodded, and soon the both of them were smiling. Ozai looked at her fondly as his smile faded. She had complimented him. A dragon. He liked that. A dragon was power. Ferocity.

"Thank you." Ozai then put the tiny animal back in the box and set it down, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

"And what is your seishin? A panda?" Ozai laughed as she narrowed her eyes at him playfully, laughing as well.

"No," she said, traces of humor still evident on her lips, "My spirit is a pheonix." Ozai leaned his head back, observing her. It suited her as well. _The dragon and the phoenix._

"Beautiful."

A/N: Review please!


	7. kabuki

A/N: Another quick chapter for you all. Thank you all for the lovely reviews! Shoutout to beachchick3 for reviewing- thank you so much! As for the request by the guest - that is pretty much what I plan to do. I won't be delving into the canonical storyline anytime soon. This story is going to be about their relationship, and it won't go into their lives with children. Thanks for reviewing! Please keep telling me what you think!

Ursa sat forward in her chair as she realized that the ushers were dimming the lights of the theater. She grinned instantly and turned to look at Ozai, seated next to her. With a bashful smile she whispered,

"It's starting now." Her smile did not go unnoticed by Ozai, who smirked when he saw the almost child-like glee spreading across her face at the mere idea of the performance. It soothed him and he didn't know why.

"I can see that," he retorted, and for once his sarcasm was not intended to belittle.

"Have you seen many plays here?" She wonders, begging for the chance of them having at least one shared interest. She knew nothing about firebending or war or history: his interests.

"I have," he starts, and then corrects himself, "Well, it depends on what you mean by many."

"More than five?" She asks, her curiosity evident in her eyes. Ozai only finds it amusing.

"Yes." He chuckled. He didn't know why she loved it so much. It was little more than entertainment to him, a passing fancy that went away the next morning. She seemed to think differently, however, so he kept these thoughts to himself. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because Ursa's smile grew even larger when he feigned interest.

"I'm so glad. I _love_ the theater." He felt almost blinded by her earnestness.

They were seated in the reserved section of the opera house: the centre balcony enclave reserved for royalty and celebrities. Ursa had felt almost haughty walking into that part of the theater, brushing elbows with the prince and dolled up in all her fineries. The night did not feel quite real. She was used to the humdrum plays of her hometown, akin to a puppet show in comparison with the grandeur of the theater in the capital. She felt like she was floating, sitting up in her chair and peering over the ground floor so far below where commoners and nobility mingled. As the show started he grabbed her hand and his touch alone felt real. When she looked at him he was not smiling, but there was a mirth in his gaze and something deeper that she couldn't put her finger on.

She leaned back and watched as the far lights came on, revealing the actors on stage. The play was wonderful, and after an hour or so Ursa was so engaged in it that she forgot her premonitions. Ozai brushed his thumb over her knuckles, and when she wasn't expecting it he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. Ursa stilled at the sensation. His lips were warm and so soft against her skin and she yearned to have more of his touch. He hadn't so much as brushed her arm since they kissed at the palace those weeks ago and she was aching for it. For him. As she thought this, silent in her considerations, she felt her heart beat louder in chest. The touch was improper, but there was no one around to see and she could do nothing to stop him. She didn't want to stop him. Suddenly Ursa noticed his expression and broke out of her reverie. He was staring at her, his eyes passionate and intensely bright in contrast with the darkness of the balcony. He didn't let go of her hand.

"What is it?" He asks, and his voice is low and little more than a murmur. His expression doesn't lighten. Ursa swallows thickly, and then the play was little more than background noise. Everything about him was so intense. Her heart only pumped faster and then she was suddenly feeling things she didn't understand, and she pulled her hand away. Ozai watched carefully as she turned her head and exhaled quickly in a rush. He was scowling then, his eyes ever burning with fire and incredulity. What had he done?

"Ursa?" Ozai implored. She turned partially so he could see the light on her pale cheek. He watched as she blinked, her eyelashes accented by the light. He sat up in his seat. When she didn't turn he scowled more and grasped her chin lightly in his large hand, turning her to him. She complies but quickly moves out of his touch, inhaling sharply.

"Prince Ozai," she chastises in a quick breath. He is being improper. They weren't supposed to touch. Ozai finally realizes and drops his arm.

"Forgive me. You're lovely." And that is all he says, expecting a response. She is silent. Ursa locks eyes with him, searching for some sort of emotion, but finds none. He is impossible to read. Her heart's still pounding in her ears at his touch. She can feel his lips lingering on her skin. She doesn't know what to say. She is feeling things she can't understand. There is a scream in the room, and Ursa quickly turns to see one of the actors fainting in the play. When she looks back to the prince his eyes are still on her. His long hair looks shiny in the light, like silk, and she wants to tangle her fingers in it. He leans in.

"What are you thinking?" As he speaks, his eyes flicker down to her wet lips. He looks as if he might kiss her and her breathing becomes quicker, fearful. Ozai notices.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asks, his brows knit together. Why should she be? Ursa blinks, unsure. He is handsome and rich and all the things he should be, but she is still afraid.

"I... no... I'm not." Ursa seems taken off guard and her lackluster response certainly doesn't sway him away from his original perception. His expression shifts from anger to sadness and confusion. He leans back from her.

"I don't believe you, Ursa," he retorts, and when she notices his crestfallen expression she panics. He looks injured. She is worried, frantic. She is doing everything wrong, she knows it. She would be devastated if Ozai decided against marrying her, and so would her parents, but she still cannot touch him. She has been told that by her mother more times than she can name, and yet, she is supposed to please the prince. Ursa's eyes go wide, begging for him not to be upset with her. She didn't know what to do.

"I'm not, Ozai. I'm..." She begins, searching for the words. He returns back to anger, his scowl deepening.

"What?" He says impatiently, his voice rising above the hushed whispers they were speaking in before. Ursa looks out to the crowd, somehow worried they will know that she has done something wrong. That she has angered him in her pride. Was it pride? Or something else? Something she didn't want to name?

"I'm not scared of you, Ozai," she starts, not entirely sure if she believes herself, "I'm... confused." Ozai licks his lips, thinking. His expression doesn't change. He looks out to the play for a second and then back to Ursa.

"I don't want you to be confused." He voices his thoughts, surprised with the way it hurts when he thinks of Ursa spurning his affections. He is not accustomed to it. Suddenly he grabs her hands in his. Ursa looks down to their joined hands in her lap and then up at Ozai in his intensity, the scowl still present on his face. She didn't want to anger him.

"I want you," he says, slowly and earnestly, without really thinking about it. His face soothes when he realises how much he wanted to say that. It had been consuming him those past few days, as he thought about returning from war and not having her in the capital to wait for him. He had been thinking about her for weeks. He imagined touching her hair, her face. Kissing her. Making love to her. It was uncomfortable and new, but he suddenly feels relieved when he finally voices his desire. Ursa gasped slightly, looking deeply at him. He is a prince. Surely this can't be happening. He is royalty and she is expected to please him, but her mother's edict not to let men touch her rings sharply in her ears when she thinks of kissing him.

"So do I," she says faintly, almost a whisper in its resignation, and a weight lifts off both of them as she inhales deeply. Ozai's face slowly morphs into a smile, and it is only then that he realised how nervous he was. That was odd. He leans in, cupping her cheek in his palm as he kisses her lotus bud lips. He only kisses her once and yet her heart is ready to bust out of her chest. Ursa is breathing heavily, and wishes he would let her go. She is torn in her indecision.

He notices this before he kisses her again, stopping himself.

"You _are_ afraid of me," he says, accusingly, his brow furrowing once more, "Why? What did I do?" Ozai's words come out in a rush as he voices his thoughts. He doesn't understand. Ursa lips her lips, backing away slightly. For a moment she is speechless, her voice caught in her throat, and then suddenly she leans her head on his shoulder, sighing deeply. Ozai, surprised by this, stills before he wraps an arm around her.

"What is it?" He asks, murmuring into her hair. He is so warm, and in an instant Ursa feels as if she is going to cry. She is doing everything wrong. Ozai wanted a perfect woman, a perfect wife, not her. She knew it. She would ruin everything, surely. She already had. It was then that the tears started to fall.

"I'm so worried," she says into his chest, the sound of her choked cry muffled by his clothes and his hair. He smells like incense and sandalwood. Ozai, growing more comfortable with the position, leans back and wraps both of his arms around her, running his hand through her hair as she cries silently.

"Why? What's wrong?" He asks. Ursa sighs.

"I don't know what to do. I don't-" Her speech breaks out into a quiet sob. An extremely rare emotion passes through Ozai as he feels her tremble under his touch. He doesn't even quite know what it is.

"Tell me, Ursa," He implores, enjoying the sensation of running his hand over the graceful curve of her back. He stops himself before he thinks of things he shouldn't.

"I'm- I'm confused. I want to be with you. I do. But- my parents, she- she wouldn't approve." She sits back, and Ozai lets his hands fall from her. She stares intently in his eyes and finally lets herself known to him.

"I can't do anything right, Ozai," she murmurs, tears glinting her pale cheek, "I can't make anyone happy." Her eyes are wet and she sniffles, reaching up to brush away a tear. Ozai has really never had to deal with anyone crying before him, and he doesn't quite know what to do. He sighs.

"That's not true, Ursa. You make me happy." He means it. She looks up at him from under wet eyelashes, a weak smile on her lips.

"I can't-" she pauses, "I can't be with you. I'm not even supposed to be alone with you... It's improper." Ozai blinks, understanding.

"To hell with propriety," he whispers fervently, "I want you. And I shall have you." Ursa inhales deeply. She doesn't know what to feel. She desires him as well, but forwardness in a young lady is unbecoming, so she remains silent. He is looking at her so intently she wonders if she could feel anything besides his penetrable heat. It was consuming. Finally, he speaks again.

" _You will marry me, won't you?_ "

 **A/N: Review please!**


	8. the gardens

A/N: I'm so excited about how this book is going! I love writing, and it means so much to have reviews from so many people! Thank you all. Anyways, this is kind of a filler chapter that I needed to put in for Ozai's absence. Also, for this chapter I did do some research about the Japanese Feudal Military Hierarchy, so check that out if you are interested. Please keep reviewing!

It was a sunny day in early spring when Ursa came to see him off. Ozai had asked her to come earlier than expected so he could speak to her. Her letters in response to his were growing more passionate and pronounced. Ever since she had opened up to him at the theater those many weeks ago, she was lighter around him. The tenseness and anxiety lifted from her shoulders and he liked seeing her that way. The only problem was that he didn't feel the same. It was if the nerves between them had shifted, then taking Ozai as their host. But his fears were not for the relationship or propriety, as hers was, they were all for his father. It made him anxious to think of war, definitely, but the prospect of disappointing his father was much more intimidating than death alone.

Ozai set down the scroll in his hands and pushed it aside. He always handed matters of the government and the military for his father; irksome tasks that were not trivial nor important enough to be desired by any of his father's officials. But Ozai was smart, and in all his twenty years he had never seen war, and so he made himself valuable in any way he could. It was one way in which Ozai prevailed over his brother and perhaps even the Firelord. Ozai was masterful when it came to issues of politics. But in the end, that never mattered. His father might have seen his prevalence in issues of the court, and indeed he did, but he did not particularly care. It was Iroh who was his pride, his joy. And it was always Iroh who was on the battlefield, it was always his eldest who returned home victorious, his enemies dead. What more could a Firelord want of his son?

There was a knock on the door of Ozai's office, and he blinked, coming out of his reverie.

"What is it?" Ozai asked, and a servant entered slightly.

"Lady Ursa of Hira'a is here to see you, Your Highness." After the servant finished with bowing, Ozai replied,

"Well, show her in." The servant only bowed again and disappeared around the corner.

Ursa came in several moments after, finding Ozai standing beside his desk, a hand resting on the dark wooden surface. She bowed gracefully, and her silky hair fell over her shoulders as she did so. She was radiant in a kimono made of black, gold, and red. Ozai smiled.

"Your Highness," she began, smiling faintly. Ozai chuckled at her mannerisms. She was a true lady, regardless of what she thought of herself.

"Lady Ursa," he replied in good humor, a sly smirk spreading across his face. He stepped closer to her, wishing that he could lean in and kiss her, but he didn't. He was giving her distance these past few weeks, as she wished. It was excruciating.

"I'm here to see you off," Ursa remarked, smiling. A moment of comfortable silence passed between them as the two simply looked at on another.

"I'm going to miss you so much." Ozai sighed gently.

"So will I," he remarked, taking her in. Ursa turned her head and smiled at him favorably.

"Can we go outside? It's beautiful." Ozai nodded, opening the door and ushering her out in front of him.

"I love your gardens," she spoke as soon as they walked together over the bridge. The cherry blossoms were just starting to bud, and soon the air would be filled with the beautiful, fragrant flowers. Ursa leaned over the covered bridge, looking out at the picturesque scene before her. The garden was immaculate. Every bush was tended, every tree was pruned. The grass was lush and vibrant, the relative effect of the volcanic soil in the caldera. The pond was accented by a small family of turtle ducks swimming in clumsy circles. Ursa leaned over the edge to watch them pass under the bridge. Ozai chuckled.

"Do you like them?" Ursa smiled again.

"Yes. I love animals," she explained. Ozai was standing next to her and his hand covered brushed hers on the rail. A shiver went through her at the contact. It had been weeks since she had felt his warmth against her. It was intoxicating when he finally took her hand in his.

"Maybe I'll give you a panda," he teased, "As an engagement present." He said this casually, but Ursa was in such a rush from his words that she dropped her hand from his. She was suddenly staring at him with wide eyes, her lips partly open. Her heart was beating already. She wondered if he was kidding. She took a moment and breathed, replacing her awed expression with a calmer one.

"An engagement present?" She asked quietly, trying not to sound expectant. Ozai only looked at her for a moment. The wind was blowing his dark hair back behind him and with his height and all his fineries he looked like a god. Ursa didn't know what to feel. But she did know that if he asked her she would most certainly say yes.

"Yes," he replied calmly, "Perhaps." He was quiet, and Ursa assumed he was still considering it. Considering her. She was wrong.

"Unless you would like something else, of course." He remarked, smirking. Ursa huffed and a smile broke out across her face. She laughed lightly. He was teasing her.

"Ozai," she chastised, and her eyes were alight with happiness. Ozai loved seeing her like that. The smile was still on her face when he drew her close and kissed her. The garden was empty and they were engaged anyway, she thought, and so she let him. She had been dreaming of this fire on her lips. Dreaming of him. As they continued he drew her even closer and she slid her hands up to his broad shoulders, and then she could feel his body pressed up against hers. A rush went through her as he slid his hands down her back. It felt amazing. When he finally broke the kiss they stayed for a while in the embrace, foreheads touching and her arms around his shoulders. She was breathing heavily and in their closeness Ozai kissed her one last time before he let her go. And then they were apart again, and Ursa hated it. She wanted to touch him again. To breathe fire again. But all she did was smile for him, as she was supposed to, and thought of the future. Ozai guided her with a hand on her back away from the bridge.

"We should be heading to the docks."

* * *

Ursa sat a the table, a perfect china doll. For once, she felt happy. Even though Ozai was gone, sailing far away from her at the speed of the eastern seas, she was happy. She sat perfectly still, eating slowly and delicately, a smile gracing her mouth.

"You certainly seem in good spirits today, dear," Rina commented, observing her daughter. Ursa only smiled wider at that, thinking of how her mother would rejoice when she shared the news that was waiting on the tip of her tongue.

"Yes, especially given that Prince Ozai departed today," Jinsuk agreed, minutely scowling as their servant poured him more tea. Ursa nodded silently, taking a sip of her tea. Her parents seemed to brush over her oddness and returned to their meals. And then, casually, as if she was discussing the weather, Ursa added,

"We're engaged."

Her parents both stilled. Her voice was nearly a mumble, and Rina wasn't sure if she had heard her right.

"What?" Rina asked, gasping.

"Ozai proposed. We're getting married," she repeated herself more loudly the second time. Rina gasped and clutched a hand over her heart as her father scowled in disbelief. She leaned forward,

"Are you in earnest?" Rina asked, out of breath at the idea.

"Yes."

Rina nearly screamed, pushing back from the table to embrace her daughter in a flurry of noise and excitement.

"Oh, gods!" she exclaimed, holding her daughter and laughing, "Engaged!" Even Jinsuk smiled, standing up from the table.

"I'm so happy for you darling!" She was ecstatic.

"I am as well darling," her father said as he embraced her, "Although I will undoubtedly be sad to lose you." Ursa smiled, her arms still around him.

"I love you, Papa," she said in a rare moment of verbal affection. He kissed her head.

"I love you too, Ursa," he replied.

"How did he do it?" Rina asked excitedly, her vigor for the idea of the marriage still intact. Ursa let go of her father.

"He took me out to the gardens- and proposed to me on the bridge." She said, biting her lip.

"Oh! How romantic," Rina said, "And right before he leaves for war." Ursa nodded.

"We'll have the engagement party when he returns from the front," Ursa explained, thinking of how long she would have to wait for his return.

"Wonderful, dear," Rina decided. She truly could not have been happier for her daughter. The marriage would be unifying and exalt their family name from out of the ashes of her father's treason. Roku had ruined their name for all she was concerned. But Ursa, her daughter, her lovely daughter, would save their family. She was sure of it.

"It is a long time," her father adds, "To wait so many months." Ursa looked at her father, thinking. Ozai would be so far away for so long, she knew. Conquering far off villages and kingdoms, tearing through the strong armies of the Earth Kingdom. But he would return, she knew it. His character was made of strength and independence, and surely he would not fail. He was a prince: untouchable. She would not fear for him. He would return, she was assured. And she could wait.

" _Patience is a virtue, father_."

* * *

A/N: _Review please_! It feeds the muse!


	9. waiting

**_Seven months later..._**

"Have you decided on flowers, Ursa?" Rina asked, making conversation as mother and daughter sat together in the living room. Ursa pulled needle through thread, and stitched into the silk.

"Roses, mother," she said. Rina raised a brow.

"Roses? But, my dear, they wilt so easily. Fire lilies would last much longer." Ursa shook her head.

"It's my wedding, mother. And roses are my favorite." Ursa was quiet, but it seems that as the months passed and every day grew closer to the day when Ozai would return, she had grown more confident. She was nineteen, and engaged to a prince, she told herself, it was childish to fear her parents. She wasn't a child anymore. Rina only pursed her lips and eyed her daughter scrupulously.

"It's only your engagement party. The wedding is not yet for months."

"For the wedding as well, mother," Ursa decided as she pulled needle through thread once more.

"For the wedding?" Her mother asked loudly and with expression. Ursa sighed gently and pricked her finger with the needle.

"Yes," was all she said. Rina scowled at her.

"That is not your decision, _dear_ , the royal family will be assembling the wedding. Not you. It is tradition," her words were punctuated in their necessity. Ursa sucked on her finger, tasting the blood there.

"I don't care if it is tradition," Ursa said calmly, quiet as ever, "It's my wedding. And Ozai would never care about such things. The wedding should be up to my discretion as well."

Rina scoffed at her daughter and set down the silk.

"You're growing into quite a cocky little thing, you know that?" She was upset.

"Just because you will be a princess does not exempt you from tradition or humbleness," her sneer was growing, "Or from doing what you're told." Ursa breathed a sigh. She was never quite perfect enough for her mother, no matter what she did, and so she simply closed her eyes and let it go. There was one person who thought she was perfect.

 _I have not spent a day without wanting you; I have not spent a night without embracing you; I have not so much as drunk a single cup of tea without cursing the pride and ambition which force me to remain separated from the moving spirit of my life._

 _In the midst of my duties, whether I am at the head of my army or inspecting the camps, my beloved stands alone in my heart, occupies my mind, fills my thoughts._

 _If I am moving away from you with the speed of the torrent, it is only that I may see you again more quickly._

 _If I rise to work in the middle of the night, it is because this may hasten by a matter of days the arrival of my sweet love. You are perfect, my dear, in every sense of the word._

His letters had been consuming her, body and soul. She knew his mission there was drawing to a close, and the excitement within her drowned out any childlike fears within her. Ozai was incorrigible, and she loved it. She was beginning to think that she loved him. Something in that frightened her however. It shouldn't, she knew, but it did. He was to be her husband, the companion of her life, what harm would it be to fall in love with him? Her own mind made little sense to her. However strange it was though, it was true. There was something in him that scared her, something she couldn't quite name. It was somewhere in his eyes, which she pictured many times in the dark of night while awaiting his arrival. Somewhere behind the golden flecks and calculating depths, there was something frightening. She was, however, disillusioned to it and knew only of his love for her and the way it felt to be held in his arms.

And perhaps in that year before their marriage, if she had known him in another light, full of rage and mania, everything would have been different. But he was only kind and persistent, and she knew nothing of what lurked behind his burning golden eyes. She could only wonder because when she saw his gaze in her memory she remembered only passion and lust, and perhaps the passing woe of a jilted lover. She did not remember anger. And when her hand ventured up her sleeping robe in the late nights of his absence, she dreamed only of the feeling of fire on her lips. And of him. Everything was him. Her mother ceased to matter. The vindictive taunts and barbs she sent her way didn't sting. She had a future now. It lay before her, unmoving, and she was stuck in the stasis between childhood and adulthood.

But the more Ursa thought about her future the more she was settled and at ease. Even if it was just another cage, it would certainly be a better one than her home. Anything would. For even in her relative wealth and comfort, her mansion felt like a prison. She decided nothing - made no choices for herself, even if she thought that she did. There was nothing for her now other than the Prince. No man would ever want to pursue a woman that the prince has clearly made claim to. And when she thought of him in the middle of the night, and wrote to him alone in the day, she knew that she was already his.

* * *

Ursa clenched her teeth, trying her best not to shake. The Fire Lord stood before her. She bent down on her knees and pressed her forehead to the ground. Her parents kneeled behind her. Azulon smirked. As horrible and fearsome as he was, the image of the avatar's family kneeled in utter supplication could only make him smile. They were silent in their submission, and Azulon spoke first.

"Welcome," he began, his voice like thunder even in his old age, "Rise, Ursa, my son will be here soon to greet us." Ursa did as she told and shuttered at her name on the lips of the Fire Lord. Even a formal meeting such as this seemed too personal. She would rather wish him to be a far-away figure, unreachable and seen only on an image on a gold coin. To be only feet from him, it was awful. The sun of midday beat down on her pale skin and she could feel a beat of sweat running down her back. Her formal clothes were really much too hot and stifling to go outdoors in for any length of time, but she tried to ignore it. After all, it was tradition. And nothing mattered more than tradition.

Ursa gracefully stood and her eyes strayed from Firelord Azulon to look up at the magnificent ship docked in the harbor. It resembled nothing so much as a spear. At the top of the ramp a small group of soldiers came to attention and walked in-step down to the pier. Behind them, in full armor, came Iroh. There was a small crowd down below the dais where royalty was welcomed, cheering and clapping at the return of their crown prince. Out of the corner of her eye Ursa could see Azulon smile in perhaps the most earnest way he ever did. Behind Iroh came Ozai, armoured as well, with a slightly quieter welcome.

When the princes reached the platform they both bowed before their father and Ursa allowed herself the luxury of looking and looking. Ozai was almost completely the same, she thought, but he somehow seemed taller, if that was even possible. When he walked over and bowed to Jinsuk their height difference was comic. Ursa thought her father looked like a dwarf in comparison. Finally, he made his way over to her. He was arm's length away, and yet she could do nothing but bow and murmur welcome. They did not touch.

"It's good to see you, my prince," Ursa said, looking in his eyes at long last. She took in everything she could. The curve of his lips, the elegant arch of his nose. He looked slightly tanner, she thought. It had been so many months. And he looked so imposing in his heavy armor. She had never seen him that way before.

"You as well, my lady." He barely smiled, but Ursa could see the joy, or perhaps relief, in his smouldering gaze. He had always been serious. But Ursa could pick out the little details in his expression that told her otherwise.

"I quite enjoyed your letters," Ozai remarked, quieter this time.

"I did as well," she responded, thinking of his silken words. It was better to see him in person.

"How are you?" Ursa asked, wishing desperately that they were somewhere far away so Ozai could speak his mind. He never did so in public gatherings. He was a mask.

"I'm very well. The journey was shorter than expected," he began, but her mother cut in much to Ursa's dismay.

"Oh! That's wonderful. It's so good to see you all come home safely, and successful in your mission, I'm assured?" Ozai turned his gaze on Rina and nodded impassively, showing very little expression. Ursa tried to read him, but failed. He was a better actor than she, and if he was upset, he would not show it on his face. It occurred to Ursa that he was not entirely happy.

"Indeed," was all he said. Rina did not stop however, it seemed she never did.

"Everything is coming along splendidly in way of the engagement party, Prince Ozai, you will feel most delighted with the ceremonies, I assure you."

"That's good to hear."

"Of course! And only a day until the party! How marvelous..." Rina kept on, and Ursa thanked the spirits that her father was the one to intervene. He put his hand on her shoulder and she stilled.

"I think it's best we give them a while alone, my dear," Jinsuk said, smiling at Ursa in supplication. She sighed gently and looked at him with gratitude. The couple bowed.

"It is wonderful to see you again, Prince Ozai. We will see you again at the banquet." When Ozai bowed, Jinsuk took his wife in arm and ushered them away to talk with Iroh and the other generals.

"I'm so sorry about my mother, she-" Ursa began, in apology, but Ozai raised a hand to stop her.

"It's alright." The sun was relentless, and suddenly Ursa felt a bit dizzy. The kimono she was wearing was belted very tightly around her waist, as it was the newest fashion, her mother assured her, but it was constricting her ability to breathe. She took out her fan as Ozai looked her over.

"You look lovely, as always." He was still not smiling.

"Thank you," she said, blushing. It very well might have been because of the heat, however.

"I feel lightheaded," Ursa said, trying to take a deep breath despite her obi. Ozai scowled and reached out to touch her back, but stopped himself.

"Let's go back to the palace. I'll have a servant fetch you some water." Ursa looked up at him, her large eyes searching. He seemed different somehow, and Ursa didn't realize that she was staring.

"Are you alright?" Ozai murmured, stepping closer to her. Ursa swallowed thickly, closing her fan and lowering her gaze.

"Yes," she breathed, but Ozai's gaze did not stray from her. When they were in the carriage on the way back to the palace Ursa felt a bit better, being out of the summer sun.

In the relative darkness of the coach Ozai reached out for her hand. Ursa gasped a little. His hands felt rough, rougher than they were before. His thumb brushed over her knuckles. Ursa only looked at their joined hands, unsmiling. She wanted more. She wanted so much more.

"I missed you," he said, little more than a desperate whisper that spoke of her absence. His eyes caught her. A fire of gold.

"I know. I missed you too."

And they sat, perfectly still, like porcelain dolls, and thought only of their future.

A/N: Review please! I live for your comments! Thank you so much for your support...


	10. cold heat

A/N: Hello! I'm going on vacation soon so I don't know how fast updates will come out but I'll do my best. Shout out to beachchick3 and Carrie Hilton for keeping me going! Thanks you guys! Please review!

* * *

There had been hours of dancing, and hundreds of guests, and yet not a single moment between just the two of them. Ozai sat patiently on the dais at her right hand, the table laid low before them. Waves and waves of guests had came to pay their respects to their prince and future princess, and Ursa was exhausted. She had never had to behave so perfectly for so long. When one was a princess there was to be no flaws, her mother reminded her. She sat perfectly still, she looked perfectly beautiful, and she kept perfectly silent. Truly, she wouldn't have minded it so much if the party hadn't lasted so long. It started not long after dinner, but now the moon was high in the sky. In the palace reception room the walls were incredibly high. It was the largest room Ursa had ever seen. The ceiling was decorated with real gold, artfully sculpted and accented all around the room. The walls were dark wooden, covered mostly by red silken embroideries. It was beautiful. And in the late of night, when only Iroh was left to mingle with Ozai and a few of the last guests, it seemed fine to let herself look and look.

"Ursa?" She heard Ozai call for her, and she turned to see his arm outstretched. She took it and stood up, bowing her head slightly. Then she looked up to see Iroh escorting the last of the nobles out. A few servants were putting away the silverware, but otherwise they were alone.

"It's over. Come to my rooms," Ozai insisted, "I'll call for some tea." Ursa looked up at her fiance, her mind too tired to think. She nodded.

"Of course. I'd be delighted." Her parents had left hours ago, and Firelord Azulon had retired to his rooms.

"You can drop the act now, Ursa," Ozai commented calmly. He hadn't said it angrily, but Ursa still tightened, and pulled her hand away from him.

"The act?" She asked, brows knit together. Ozai scoffed a bit and turned his head.

"I didn't mean it like that. I mean... you can relax. Everyone has left." He seemed sincere, but his comment had still wounded her.

"Do think I'm fake?" She asked fervently, her voice barely above a whisper. Ozai scowled.

"No," he protested, "I meant that you don't have to worry about propriety with me. I don't care." Ursa sighed a bit and looked up at him. She nodded, too tired to really respond.

"I know," she said, thinking of his kisses. They hadn't kissed at the party. They hadn't even really spoken. Once they were inside his rooms he called for a servant and ordered some tea. Ursa looked around the vast interior of his entryway and connected rooms. They were wide, spacious, and beautifully dark. The floor and the casings were the same dark mahogany, and the glossy wood felt cold under her feet. There were two long windows, almost the length of the wall, that were covered in red, sheer curtains that blowed in the late summer wind.

His foyer had a sitting area with low cushions and various tables around them. Their surfaces were mostly empty, but one table held her interest. There upon the glass surface, was a tiny glass-blown dragon. The one she had given him. Ursa looked back to Ozai and smiled softly, seeing that he had been staring at her the whole time.

"You kept it," was all she said and Ozai stepped closer.

"Of course I did, it's beautiful..." he said, "And it reminds me of you." Ursa smirked.

"It's supposed to remind you of yourself," she said lightly. He huffed.

"But I enjoy thinking about you so much more." He came closer, and in the privacy of his rooms she finally felt safe and calm. He was so handsome in the dim light of the room, and standing so close to her, that Ursa let herself reach out and touch him. She hadn't touched him in months. She cupped his cheek and slid her thumb across it's surface, feeling the smoothness there. She had never caught him with facial hair, never. And it felt good, and perhaps her tired mind was to blame but she stepped even closer and let her fingers run through his silken hair. When she locked eyes with him his gaze was passionate even in its tiredness and he leaned in to kiss her but turned his head quickly. Ursa scowled, and then looked to see a servant standing at the entrance to the room, head bowed in supplication.

"Thank you," Ozai said, perhaps to clear the awkwardness in the room. The young woman recovered from her bowing and set the tray of tea down on the low table.

"You're welcome, your Highness. Please forgive my intrusion." Once the girl had left Ursa let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in.

"Why I am so stupid? Always..." Ursa sighed in a whisper and sat down on one of the cushions. Ozai rolled his eyes.

"Don't worry about such things," he insisted. "The servants won't tell anyone. Nothing happened." Ursa looked up at him.

"You can laugh about such things. You're a man," her tone was stiff and she drew her arms to her chest. Ozai sat himself down beside her.

"I would get in trouble.." She thought, and then she feverishly spoke "I should leave. My parents will want me home." Ozai reached out for her as she went to stand.

"Stop. It's okay." Ursa wasn't sure if she really wanted to stay, but Ozai was the prince, and so she stayed.

"You worry too much about what people think. It'll be fine, Ursa. We will be married in just over a month. No one will be able to say anything to you then." Ursa was taken back and looked at him, her eyes wide as the moon.

"A month?!" She asked, wishing she would have said it quieter. She couldn't mask her surprise. She had heard nothing of this. Ozai blinked.

"Yes-That was the plan. In six weeks." Ozai explained, hesitant. Ursa blinked several times.

"I didn't know that it was coming up so soon." Ursa's eyes had drifted off and something in Ozai ached at her expression. He was silent and his face fell completely.

"I didn't know that it was such a depressing thought." Ozai said quietly, cold as the night breeze. Ursa's eyes shot out to look at him and for a moment she was frozen again, looking at him.

"Ozai," she breathed. She didn't know what to say. Ursa turned around and mumbled a swear under her breath. Why couldn't she do anything right? All she wanted was to be a perfect daughter. And a perfect wife. But she couldn't seem to be either. She looked at her fiance. Her handsome, kind, loving, fiance, and she wanted to cry. All she ever did was upset him.

"It just shocked me, is all. I'm not upset. I- This is all happening so quickly."

There was a silence. Finally, Ozai spoke.

" _I love you_."


	11. foreign concepts

**A/N: I'm back from my break! Hope you all are looking forward to some more chapters! I've been really inspired to work on this story lately and I have some good ideas... Just for a warning this will be the last chapter with a teen rating and later chapters in this story will include sex, mentions of sexual abuse, and mentions of physical/emotional abuse (not between Ozai and Ursa). So just be forewarned. Another note for some of the comments... Ozai's love will be further explained in this chapter. I hope that clears up some of the questions you've been having. Also, now that Ozai is back from war it has been about nine months since the first chapter so it's not as fast as you might think. Anyways, enjoy! Please review!**

"I love you," a pause, " _most ardently_."

Ozai's words, although displaying the most affectionate emotion a person is capable of, were intensely concentrated and spoken in a rush of passion that sounded almost like an accident. Ursa would never forget his expression. His dark eyebrows were slightly knit, a wrinkle appeared on his forehead. But it was his eyes that held his emotions the most. They were burning, as they always were, like a wildfire or a raging inferno, piercing into her very soul. But for all the similarity in his gaze there was something exceptionally different. Something she will never quite forget for the feelings it stirred in her stomach. She realized something.

For all their time together, and the many months that she had known him, there was always a barrier in his gaze. Something she could only glimpse at. She had likened this to the calculating depths of his soul, and indeed she was correct in that, but it was more than that. Ozai's eyes were always guarded. Every time she was with him, there was passion, or affection, or lust, but guarded they still were. She had never seen him in his truest state, overcome by passionate emotion, emotion that allowed him - perhaps forced him - to let down his guard, to take off his veil. He had never allowed himself to show her everything. All her doubts went away when she locked eyes with him then. It was as if a clouded glass had been broken and she finally saw him. No wonder she hadn't trusted him before, she thought, he kept himself so reserved and guarded she never truly saw him. His letters, the haste within their marriage was occurring, it all began to make sense. He was in love with her.

Despite all of Ozai's affectionate phrases and letters she had never truly contemplated this possibility before. It was uncommon, rare in fact among the upper classes, to ever find love in a marriage. All the time she had been with him, she had assumed he was simply carrying out his duties of status and lineage to procure a bride. Letters among the upper classes were meant to display writing prowess and status, and not often to display the earnest feelings of the writer. She had simply assumed. The gifts, the kisses, she all thought were seen as the common traits of wooing a woman to wife. Not among lovers. At least, not usually. Marriage and love were so often separated in royal marriages, she had not even truly thought of the possibility. She remembered something Ozai had said to her,

 _"_ _Royalty almost never marries for love. My father did not, and neither my brother. It is not common for a prince."_ She had taken this to be an explanation of sorts, an unspoken acknowledgment of his feelings towards her. She had thought he had said it to explain why he would not love her. She had been entirely wrong. Ozai had not said it to dissuade her from the idea of his love, but rather to explain how odd his affections must seem. It explained why Ozai had not told his brother of her true relation to him on their first meeting. It was odd for a prince to marry for love.

Ursa was struck speechless. She sat in silence for a few moments after he had told her, her lotus bud mouth parted in shock and disbelief. Something in her very soul ached knowing that she was truly seeing him for the first time, and knowing that all that had happened before that was not the common rites of courtship, but instead a true representation of his love for her.

" _Ozai_ ," she breathed, a beautiful sigh. He tensed up slightly and continued before she could possibly reject him.

"These past months have been a torment. I decided not to return to the Earth Kingdom with the army in the fall with the single object of seeing you-I had to see you. I've fought against my better judgement, my family's expectations, and the inferiority of your birth by rank. In circumstance all these things I am willing to put beside and I ask you to end my agony." His words came out in a rush, one word ending where another began. His eyes a blazing wildfire as he voiced his passion to her. Ursa was struck as if by a bolt of lightning at the sincerity of his words and the expression of his emotion.

"I know you do not return my affections. I can see that now most clearly as we approach our marriage that the feelings I have go unrequited and that you have only been returning my affections as a placitude -" Ursa cut him off boldly, her amber eyes fierce with expression.

" _You're wrong_." Ozai breathed heavily, partly from nervousness and partly from the haste in which he had spoken. She came closer to him, grasping his broad shoulders before sliding her hands up to his neck.

"I do love you." Ozai's expression changed entirely into one of shock and then excitement. He smiled widely and she did as well before he leaned in. She relished in sensation of the kiss, of breathing fire.

* * *

In the week before the wedding, servants flittered around Ursa's house like birds. They went through her closet and her personal items, directed by her mother or occasionally her father who told them what things should be taken and what should stay. Ursa stayed quiet through most of the process, her head buzzing with the noise and her mind lost in a fog. She felt lightheaded from all the change around her. It was as if everything in her life was being swept out from under her. She thought that she should feel differently in the situation she was in, more assured, more in control. But then she supposed that there was no need for her to feel in control. Her life had already been decided for her by her parents and her soon-to-be-husband. There was no need to cling to any semblance of control. She was already achieving what most girls dream of only in their wildest fantasies: becoming a princess.

Ursa wondered what it would feel like to be royalty herself. She couldn't picture it, and yet she wondered what changes would occur in her. When Ursa thought of royalty she imagined a perfectly calm aura, the smoothest of words, and an undeniable sense of entitlement and importance. Ursa wondered if she would embody any of those things. She wondered if she really wanted to. She had expressed this one night to her mother who only assured her that she was having pre-wedding jitters and it was normal to have self doubt. Ursa shook it off. There wasn't time to think about such things anyway. It seemed as if every day there were more and more things to do to prepare for the wedding.

Her cousins arrived soon after, and the excitement of seeing them again overcame her apprehension. Her cousin Zara was the closest thing Ursa ever had to a sister. They hadn't seen each other as much in the past few years because Zara had gotten married, but when they were together again it was as if the time of their separation was only a few days.

"Ursa, the house is beautiful," Zara remarked happily, glad to be staying with family during the royal wedding. Her and her sisters walked through the rice paper doors and sat down on the tatami mats of the upper family room.

"When I heard the news, Ursa, I could hardly believe it! A prince! It's like a fairy tale," Anzari beamed, and Zara nodded happily. Ursa looked down coyly and blushed. She was not used to having so much attention. Usually it was her eldest cousins, Zara and Hana, that got the most attention. But they were married already, both tied to well-to-do rice farmers of the southern provinces.

"I know! You must be so excited Ursa, I can't even imagine. You'll be a princess soon!" The youngest cousin, not yet sixteen, giggled in delight at the thought. Ursa smiled and poured tea for her cousins. They all took a sip and Zara was the first to question it.

"What is this? The brew is delicious."

"Crown Prince Iroh gave it to me as a gift. Look," Ursa said, and dropped a small object into her teacup. Suddenly it blossomed into a flower, the water changing its shape. Her cousins laughed and peered to look at it.

"What is he like?" Hana asked, her curiosity overcoming her. Ursa smiled at the thought of him.

"He is very amiable and charming. He can always make you laugh. But he is most often away at war, of course." Her cousins nodded. Barely a moment went by before Zara asked,

"And what of Prince Ozai? He's the one you're marrying!" Her cousins laughed again and set down their teacups, eager to hear about him.

"He's handsome isn't he? He looks so handsome in the paintings," Anzari asked. Ursa smirked, that was one thing she had no doubts about.

"Yes, he is." The room again was filled with delicate laughter. Zara, who sat beside her squeezed her hand.

"You're so lucky! Tell us more about him! Is he like the Crown Prince?" All the girls scooted closer the the tea table, excited.

"No, not really. He's very intense, but kind. Passionate..." Ursa drifted into her memories. Zara smirked. Looking closely at her younger cousin.

"Passionate?" She asked suggestively, smiling and raising her eyebrows. The giggling began again. Ursa blushed again and looked down at her teacup. Hana scowled for a brief moment after Ursa didn't stop them.

"Wait… you haven't- been with him, have you?" Hana asked intently as her sister's eyes widened. Ursa scowled immediately.

"No! Of course not…" Ursa huffed, shaken, "I'm a maiden." Her voice was lowered to little more than a whisper as she was offended by the question and she raised a hand to nervously stroke her long hair.

"Of course you are. I'm sorry. It's just the way that you phrased it…" Hana apologized. Zara butted in in lieu of her sister. She always thought Hana too cautious and boring anyway.

"Nevermind her," Zara said, looking upon her sister's plain face, "He's passionate you say? How exciting-is he a good dancer?" She asks.

"He is. Though he's not very fond of it," Ursa explained. She thought of Sozin's birthday that night. She thought about his eyes. They were so intense, so fiercely passionate they almost made it seem like there was an edge of mania to his gaze. So similar to that of… Ursa shook her head. She told herself not to think of it. Besides, where his gaze used to scare her it made her feel entirely different now.

"Really?" Anzari asks, "You'd think he'd like dancing. His brother Iroh surely does…" Ursa smirks at her cousin's comment a bit. Ozai never liked being compared to him, and indeed they were very different.

"Iroh and Ozai aren't really alike at all. Ozai is a bit more serious. He can be funny, and charming, just-in private. He doesn't like large parties," Ursa explained, taking another sip of her tea. Her cousins nodded.

"He's more introverted, then?" Hana asked, interested.

"Yes.. Well-at least more than Crown Prince Iroh is." Zara poured more tea. The sun was rising in the sky as the morning grew on.

"So passionate how, then?" Zara asked as she raised an elegant brow. She truly was a beautiful woman, and she certainly was the most flirtatious in all Ursa's family. It had been rumoured that she had extramarital relations by some of her sisters.

"He's… romantic," Ursa said, thinking of his letters and his kisses and his gifts. Her cousins sighed and giggled.

"Romantic? Oh gods, Ursa, you've found yourself a prince charming, haven't you?" Zara jested. There might have been a ounce of jealousy in her words. She was only married to a rice farmer, after all.

"Have you kissed him?" Anzari wondered, excitement written all over her face. Ursa tried not to blush and she nodded coyly.

"Is he a good kisser?" Ursa bit her lip and almost laughed. She felt giddy to be saying such things.

"Yes," she nodded, definite in her answer. He certainly had more experience than her.

"Are you in love?" Anzari asked in all the naivete and innocence of a fifteen-year-old, and Hana rolled her eyes at the concept. Royal marriages were not about love. Ursa looked down at her hands that were folded delicately in her lap. She blushed furiously.

"Yes."

There was a silence, a confusion in the room.

"What?" Zara asked, taken aback. All of her cousins were gasping at the concept.

"Are you in earnest?" Hana asked, placing her hand on Ursa's arm as she looked up.

"Yes. We are." An even louder wave of laughing filled the room and Ursa couldn't help but smirk.

"I had no idea! I thought you too were arranged because of our familial ties. I had no idea…" Zara explained, shaking her head. The thought of such a thing.

"I thought it was arranged too…" Anzari said. Ursa pursed her lips.

"He's been courting me for some time. It wasn't planned." Her heart soared at that.

"Oh gods this is unreal, Ursa! Why didn't you write to us and tell us?" Anzari wondered. Ursa turned to look over her shoulder.

"I don't know. I was so preoccupied, I.. I didn't think of it. I'm sorry." Ursa apologized, looking over her cousins. Zara shook her head and said,

"It's alright. We're here to help now." Ursa scowled, confused.

"Help? What do you mean?" She didn't know what Zara was referring to. Zara and Hana shared a glance for a moment and then both laughed knowingly.

"Anzari, will you leave the room please?" Zara said, a bit of humor playing on her lips. When Anzari had left Ursa scowled a bit and looked over her older cousins.

"What are you going to tell me?" Ursa was beginning to expect the answer as Hana continued giggling, but that didn't stop the blush that came when her cousin spoke next.

"We're going to tell you about the wedding night."

 **A/N: Please review to tell me what you think! Also, a bit of a note. In Asian cultures in the past, particularly among royalty, these were the feelings of the upper-class about love and marriage. There were matchmakers in both China and Japan and people most always married for convenience or upward mobility. Not for love.**


	12. a white rose

chapter twelve: a white rose

* * *

Bright, gentle light filtered through chiffon curtains, creating an almost heavenly glow in the moments after daybreak. Ursa stood in the euphoria of the morning sun and breathed in fresh dewy air, letting herself have a few moments of peace before the madness she knew was to come. It was her wedding day.

She stood, barefooted, in the tatami room. She was waiting. Nerves had kept her up almost the entire night before, and yet she was still wide awake. Ursa fingered the hem of her sleeping robe, anxiously rubbing the chiffon material between her fingers absentmindedly. She was calmer than she had anticipated given that the night before she was tossing and turning at the thought of the morning. It was her coronation. Her wedding day. The things she had been waiting for and thinking of for so many years suddenly seemed so possible. So tangible.

"Ursa?" Her cousin Zara asked, walking down the halls, her cheery tone light and delicate as she approached the room. Ursa smiled the tiniest bit, for as much as she loved her cousin, she couldn't help wanting a few moments more to embrace her solitude before the day started. But the morning would come, just as the night would, Ursa told herself. There was no way to stop time.

Zara slid open the rice paper door and shuffled in in her house slippers and navy blue dressing robe. Ursa, sitting the the sun's early rays, smiled back at her. With the light on her face and all throughout the room, blinding and beautiful, it struck Zara for a moment so she could do nothing but stare. Her cousin was gorgeous. The light illuminated her pale skin and it looked as dewy as the fresh morning grass. Zara reached out and touched her face, entranced by the beauty of her innocence. It was no longer a wonder to Zara why the prince chose Ursa as his bride despite her much lower status. She was as flawless and pure as a white rose.

"Good morning." Ursa breathed as she blinked dreamily, the sunlight reflecting on her long eyelashes. There was a delicate tiredness to her gaze.

"Good morning, princess," Zara said, teasing her.

"I'm not a princess yet, Zara. You can say that to me tonight." Zara smirked a bit.

"I think you'll be pretty busy with other things tonight, dear." She chuckled a bit as she began to run a comb through her hair, and Ursa wanted to join in, but suddenly a knot formed in her throat as she thought about it. She didn't even feel ready for the ceremony, let alone…

Zara noticed that Ursa's mind had drifted off into thought. Her plush, lotus bud lips were not smiling but instead pursed in concentration. She stopped brushing for a moment.

"What is it, Ursa?" She asked, and turned to the side to see her face. Ursa sat still for a moment when she thought of her cousin's words from the other night. _It hurts so badly. Don't say I didn't warn you, dear._

Ursa blinked, coming out of her reverie and inhaling sharply.

"Nothing, I…" She didn't know what to say. Zara sat down and kneeled beside her.

"Are you nervous?" Zara wondered. It seemed like a wonderful night to her, especially with a man as handsome as Prince Ozai, but Zara had to remind herself that Ursa was a virgin. It would be nerve-wracking regardless of the man. And a prince, at that. Ursa didn't say anything at first.

"A little- I mean, not really, it's just… it's my first time," Ursa mumbled quietly, her heart beating, "And there's so much happening today, and-" Zara nodded and hummed her agreement.

"I know, I know. I understand dear. It's not uncommon. Almost everyone gets jitters before their wedding. I did." Zara said, and Ursa was suddenly glad it was just the two of them. She put her hand over Zara's and smiled a bit.

"Thank you for being here, Zara. It means a lot to have someone to talk to." Ursa's voice was gentle, and Zara smirked again.

"You're welcome, honey. And you'll have to pay me back, anyway." She said, humor evident on her lips. Ursa raised an eyebrow.

"What?" She asked.

"You'll have to tell me what it's like in bed with him," Zara whispered, chuckling. Ursa blushed and rolled her eyes, trying not to think about it. That didn't stop Zara.

"It can be very pleasurable, you know." Ursa was sure she had never blushed so profusely before. She huffed.

"I know that," she insisted quietly, hating her cousin's desire to state the obvious just to make her blush. Zara was still chuckling.

"I'm just saying, there's no need to be so nervous. Not even the first time." She moved to sit in front of her younger cousin, still smirking. Ursa was looking down at the tatami mat, the hint of color still on her cheeks.

"Okay?" Zara asked, tilting her chin upwards with her finger. Ursa locked eyes with her. She nodded in agreement.

" _Okay_."

* * *

The golden uchikake was almost too beautiful to bear. The red silk of the dress was almost entirely covered in embroidery of the finest golden thread. There were depictions of dragons and other animals, beautiful and rare, all with a clashing that somehow appeared harmonious. A pure white obi was secured across her waist, a tradition in the fire nation, meant to show the purity of the bride on her wedding day. Ursa quite liked it. It provided a relief from the intensity of the rest of the dress. Tied around the center of the obi was a slender golden rope, meant specifically for weddings, to show the status of the bridegroom's family. It was the depiction of rank among the noble classes, done to show the deference that must be given to the bride now that she is being welcomed into a family of higher status. The royal family was the only that the color of gold. Ursa liked that as well. She would be a princess soon, and everything would change.

Her mother was at her side, draping and rearranging the fabric. She would cup her daughter's face from time to to time and touch up a bit of makeup as the servants applied it, or run her hand through Ursa's hair.

"Some khol to bring out your eyes," Hana said. Ursa looked at her reflection in the mirror.

"Not too much, please." Her mother was braiding her long hair meticulously so it would look perfect once her headpiece was adorned. There was wet rouge on her lips and powder on her perfect skin and she looked much more mature than she usually did. The dress was heavy and thick in its luxury, weighing her down to reality. Ursa was glad for that. With all the commotion in the room of her servants and cousins flying around like birds, Ursa felt too light among the throng of people.

Finally, after several hours, her preparations were completed. Ursa felt the security of her headdress as it was put in place firmly. A thin golden rod with a dragon figure at one end slid through her hair and secured it in place. Her head was perfectly adorned with a large braid, wrapped around her head in an oval, as well as several smaller braids that added to the intricacy of the design. The gold dragon was accented by a red tassel that matched the rouge on her lips. Several golden insignias were molded into the intricate headpiece so no one would guess where her allegiances lie, she supposed. She was to be a Fire Nation Princess.

Her mother came forward at last to give her wedding slippers. They were beautiful, gold slippers, designed to match the red of her uchikake. Ursa lifted her heavy robes and slipped them on. Everything was in place. Her mother looked in the mirror with Ursa at her reflection. Her daughter was not smiling. It was too much for Ursa to take in at once. Rina's eyes watered as she looked her over.

"My beautiful Ursa. What a princess you will be." Her words were the sweetest Ursa had ever heard from her mother, and when she turned around to face her her mother had her hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes. Ursa felt something ache in her chest when she leaned in to hug her. It was love, unfamiliar and strange. Love she hadn't felt in a very long time.

After her cousins and father had finished their embraces and words of praise, a servant arrived at the front. Ursa was kneeling in the formal living room and could hear his words through the rice paper divide.

"We are here to take Lady Ursa to the royal family to prepare for the coronation, my lord." Ursa smiled a bit despite her nervousness. Her mother squeezed her hand.

"Go, my dear." Ursa rose with all the grace of a monarch and stepped out of her old home, her old life, and her old self.

* * *

When Ursa arrived at the palace, Ozai was already waiting in the royal carriage for her. Ursa breathed a gentle sigh. She was entirely grateful to see him. He would calm her, she thought. Seeing him cool and collected as he always was, never nervous- it would soothe her. Accepting a hand from a servant, Ursa walked through the carriage door to see Ozai sitting comfortably inside, just as relaxed as she had expected. When they locked eyes, Ozai smiled gently. A servant closed the carriage door, and Ursa sat opposite Ozai, tucking her wedding robes gracefully beneath her. Ozai's golden eyes roamed her form, the hint of a smile still on his lips.

"Magnificent." His voice was deep and smooth as molten gold, and it made Ursa feel better almost instantaneously. A bit of her nerves had already started to go away as she looked over her fiance. He too was in his wedding robes, although the men's style was quite different than hers. He wore a black hanfu, as was tradition, with hems outlined in red silk, a pattern of dragons embroidered in gold. He looked exceptionally handsome, not a hair out of place.

"I'm nervous," Ursa breathed, and wondered why she had voiced her thoughts. It was their wedding day after all.

"Don't be," Ozai assured her, "What reason do you have to be nervous?" Ursa exhaled through her nose.

"There will be so many people." Ozai hummed his response and grasped her hand. The warmth of his skin shocked her. She had never lived with a firebender. It felt as if their skin was always feverishly hot, like some inner inferno was fueling them. Or so she guessed, for Ozai always did, and he was the only firebender she had ever really touched. He pulled her dainty hand to his lips and kissed it, and her skin felt good on his lips. It was a welcome thought to imagine that he would be kissing a lot more of her later on in the night.

"The people of the Fire Nation will be awed by your beauty, and your grace. Don't worry about their opinion of you. I insist upon it," he paused, not letting go of her hand, "Today you will be a Princess, Ursa, and nothing as trivial as that will bother you any more."

Ursa bit her lip as the carriage began to move. She wanted to believe him, she did.

"Are you telling me you me you're never nervous in front of people?" She wondered earnestly, looking deep into his fiery gaze.

"Not strangers, no. Never." He was sincere. Ursa only blinked. She sat back in her seat and looked out of the window. Ozai let himself stare at her in all her beauty. Her neck was graceful in the way it was turned, and the milky white skin there was calling to him. Down further he could see the hint of perky cleavage that was visible in her dress, a welcome and unfamiliar sight. He wanted to reach out and touch her, hold her in his arms and kiss her sweet lips, all the way down to her neck, and ravish her entirely. After a while of staring Ozai realized he was letting his mind wander a bit too far, and he felt a familiar tightening in his robes. He withheld a sigh, leaning back to rest his head against the plush seat of the carriage. He was reminded of how he had woken up that morning: blood pumping through his veins, the afterimage of Ursa's naked form stuck in his subconscious. The dreams had been tormenting him. He was so close, he told himself, so close to finally having her.

Ursa had noticed his withheld groan and watched with wide eyes as he breathed deeply, his eyes closed and head rested back against the seat. She wondered what was wrong with him, or if she had upset him in some way. Perhaps her nerves had aggravated him.

"Ozai?" She asked, almost timid in her fear, "Did I say something? What is it?"

Startled, Ozai raised his head to find her staring at him, her amber eyes wide as the moon, the confusion clear on her porcelain face. He simply looked at her a second, and then he laughed.

"What?" Ursa asked, but Ozai only continued to laugh, looking out the window. He turned his head to face her.

"I'm not upset with you," he said, the hint of humor still in his words, "I was just-" he paused, "Nevermind." He decided against telling her what was bothering him, thinking it as something to explain after their wedding night and she was already familiar with such concepts. But Ursa was still confused, and not happy with his answer.

"Tell me what you were so upset about," she insisted. Ozai blinked, and let out the breath he had been holding in. He thought for a moment about how to phrase his words.

"I'm impatient, is all. I'm so ready for all of this pomp to be over so you can finally be mine." Ursa looked him over, slightly pursing her lips in thought as a moment passed between them. Ozai was still staring.

"You're so goddamn beautiful," he sighed in a voice as low and sultry as a purr, his golden eyes never straying from her. Ursa inhaled sharply at his choice of words, not only because of the impropriety but because of the intensity of his affection. After a moment Ozai raised his head and his eyes caught hers. Hers were still wide. He briefly wondered if his language had frightened her.

"I'm sorry," he corrected himself, not wanting her to think him some kind of fiend, "I shouldn't have-" Ursa cut him off.

"It's okay," she breathed, her heart beating in her chest the longer she thought about the sincerity of his words. A moment passed, and she couldn't help but add,

"I think the same thing." Ozai stilled, and then he smiled. Ursa licked her lips.

"Ozai-" She began, but was quickly stopped by the carriage coming to a halt. They had already arrived at the temple. Ursa breathed in, forgetting everything she was going to say when she thought of how many people would be behind the door of the carriage. Ozai shifted forward in his seat, ready to leave, before he reached for her hand.

"Are you ready?" Ozai asked, running his thumb across her fingers. Ursa looked up at him and their eyes clashed. Gold and gold. Ursa didn't quite know why she said it- perhaps the nerves - but suddenly she said it all the same.

"I love you." Ozai stilled, the intensity of his gaze washing over her lovely features. He didn't smile. He felt too many emotions to process at once, and so his eyes only bore into hers, a wildfire that couldn't be contained.

"As do I," Ozai assured her. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. Ursa nuzzled her nose against his in perhaps the most romantic gesture she had ever given him. He inhaled her scent and withheld a sigh. She smelled of patchouli, lavender, and freesia. It was difficult to tear himself away from her. But they did. Ursa stepped out first, followed by the Prince, and the wedding began.

Ursa had lost all track of time during the ceremony. The sun was high in the sky but time meant nothing. She was floating again, unattached to her surroundings in the light of it all. She had walked through the crowd after Ozai had arrived the dias. Her golden uchikake had flowed all around her and surrounded her in an aura of beauty and grace. She was a maiden at the precipice, a white rose waiting in infinitely long seconds to become the full blood rose she was meant to be. To leave her childhood, and all her fears in the dust. To welcome with open arms the responsibility and struggles of a Princess of the Fire Nation, and to leave her past life far behind her.

The readings went by in a blur, and her mind was somewhere far away when she stood with Ozai and drank the sake. One cup for the past, one for the present, and one for the future. _May they share in all things, and rejoice in all triumphs._ The fire sages had prayed and given their firebending demonstration to Agni in the name of their marriage, but their fire was merely an afterimage in her mind. Before she had even realized it, the ceremony was coming to a close. The royal family had came up to the dias to perform their part of the coronation. They stood on both sides, clad in white, and repeated after the sage. Ursa _did_ in fact remember these words.

"Lady Ursa I renounce forever, and with open arms I welcome Princess Ursa as a sister." Iroh's voice was resonant and warm, and Ursa saw the smile on his face when she looked to him.

"Lady Ursa I renounce forever, and with open arms I welcome Princess Ursa as an aunt." Lu Ten, mostly a stranger to Ursa, had recited in a voice much like his father's.

"Lady Ursa I renounce forever, and with open arms I welcome Princess Ursa as a daughter." Ursa swallowed thickly when Azulon spoke loudly to the crowd. He stood on Ozai's side, a pillar of resolute strength and authority.

"Lady Ursa I renounce forever, and with open arms I welcome Princess Ursa as my wife." Ursa's heart was beating so loudly in her chest that she almost could not hear Ozai's words.

Azulon slowly removed the dragon hairpiece, setting it down carefully before he picked up the royal wedding crown and placed it upon her head. The crown was unlike any other. It had been in the royal family for generations and it was truly the essence of opulence and wealth. Made entirely of gold and rubies, it practically sparkled in the midday sun. It was made of tiny leaves and ribbons of pure gold, all connected to create a large, glittering masterpiece. There were many parts, but the main design was two curving pieces on her left and right side, and the form of two dragons above, curling symmetrically to meet at the top, central ruby. From the parts that hung over her shoulders fell many slender strands of gold, delicately accenting her face. In the center at the top of her forehead there was a small curved piece that came down, and it too bore golden strands, these ones shorter and accented by pearls. In the back, attached by the base of her neck, was a chiffon veil, the same bright red as her dress. Azulon laid the it properly over her back and she looked to Ozai as the Fire Lord walked away. Ozai held out his hand and she laced her fingers through his. They stood as one.

" _We renounce forever Lady Ursa, firstborn of Jinsuk and Rina Miyagi, and we welcome with open arms, Princess Ursa, wife of Fire Prince Ozai_!"

Ursa looked out over the crowd. Hundreds stood before them. The sheer number of people looking at her was enough to make her faint. But then, something entirely different sparked within her. The first row of nobles bent to their knees and bowed, followed by the next row, and the next, until finally it felt as if all of the Fire Nation was kowtowing to her. She couldn't breathe. Ursa had never felt like this. A strange sort of exhilaration was pumping through her body, and it wasn't entirely bad. She looked over to her husband and saw his handsome face smiling in perhaps one the most sincere ways he ever would, before he looked back down at the crowd that was kneeled in submission. Ursa was learning. She was learning to know what it felt like to have fire coursing through her veins. For once, she felt alive. Awake.

 _She never wanted to go back to sleep._

* * *

A/N: **Please review!** It's all that I ever ask.

Notes: Here's a link to **Ursa's coronation crown** = . .

This is Ozai's oufit: kf/HTB1S.


	13. blood red

chapter thirteen: blood red

* * *

Somewhat ironically, the wedding reception was actually much more intimate than the engagement party. Apparently it was Ozai's idea, and for once Azulon was eager to agree with him. Neither, apparently, were fond of having to deal with so many people. And so the wedding reception was held inside in a smaller, though still grand, room of the western reception hall. After a short palanquin ride from the temple, the newlyweds arrived at the palace. When Ursa walked down from the palanquin, Ozai was there, his hand outstretched for her and his expression much lighter than normal. Ursa was out of breath from the excitement, but she shared in his happiness. There was still that something buzzing within her, something that felt so tangible and alive, it made her ache.

Hand in hand, Ozai and Ursa walked through the small crowd waiting outside of the entrance to the western wing of the palace. The noblemen clapped and cheered, and children threw rose petals and rice paper as the couple walked through the crowd. Ursa couldn't describe the feeling. She was on a high. And suddenly before she knew what was happening, Ozai was leaning down and kissing her. It felt good, grounding, but still made her heart race, like it always would. They kissed for several moments there at the entrance, family and other nobles laughing and cheering, and Ursa could feel the heat on her cheeks and the butterflies in her stomach she almost didn't notice how good it felt to have Ozai's lips against her own. Then, after minutes or hours or years, it was over, and Ursa finally smiled.

Iroh was there when she entered the room, already filled with people. He was smiling knowingly, having watched their embrace, and he reached out for Ursa. She embraced him, enjoying his humorous expression. Anyway, she was too intoxicated by the excitement to have fears. There were so many sounds, loud in her ears, so many feelings, and so many colors. When Iroh let her go he was quick to hug his younger brother, laughing and hitting him on the back. Ozai was just happy enough not to be entirely repulsed by it. While the brothers embraced, Ursa looked around the grand hall. It was styled differently than the others, and Ursa soon recognized that this must have been one of the original rooms, left from the way the palace looked before Firelord Sozin remodeled it. It was in the traditional, more colorful style, with a detailed ceiling, tatami floors, and murals across the tall walls of the room. They depicted bonsai trees, dragons, and other animals - and all the colors meddled perfectly with the design of the ceiling. Red, gold, and royal blue. The design was so awe-inspiring that it was hard to look away from.

Ozai noticed his wife looking around the room in appreciation. He smiled and walked up to her, sliding his arm around her small waist. Ursa didn't flinch at his touch, and at that he smiled even more.

"It's beautiful, isn't it? It's the original artistry. Over a hundred of years old," he noted, looking down to his wife. It was so strange for Ursa to feel so much happiness that she felt unlike herself, but she only smiled and looked over her husband's flawless face. For a moment, she felt perfect, and she never wanted to change anything. She was married, in love, in power, what more could she ever want? It was a strange sensation. Ozai leaned down to kiss her again, unable to resist himself, apparently, but it was much quicker this time. That didn't change the way her heart raced, however, and she blushed, slightly hiding her face in his robes, her hand interlaced with his.

The musicians began playing and then Ozai's hand shifted back to her waist. A servant approached, holding out a tray of drinks, and Ozai took one for them both. As soon as she was about to take a drink, a young man was in front of her, bowing.

"Lieutenant Zhao," Ozai began, "Thank you for coming." Zhao smirked.

"Of course, your highness, I was honored to receive your invitation." He was tall, and rather imposing for his age, Ursa supposed. He might have been handsome if not for the sideburns covering his face. She almost wanted to laugh at the sight of him, but this man certainly did not seem the laughing type.

"And a great honor to meet such a fantastic beauty, of course," Zhao added, bowing his head, the smirk still on his face. Ursa could tell he was intelligent just from speaking to him, but that did not mean that she was happy with his presence - or his words. His pompousness struck her sharply.

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Ozai took a sip from his glass.

"Zhao and I went to the same firebending school, many years back," he added, his hand still firmly around her waist. Ursa liked his touch. She felt protected by it - less vulnerable. As Ozai and Zhao began to speak about the war Ursa merely listened, not knowing enough to have any opinions, and she took a sip from her glass. It was some sort of fruity alcohol, judging by the way it burned in her throat. She almost went to put it down, but stopped herself - she wasn't in her parent's house anymore. She could drink if she wished.

As the night carried on Ursa met many nobles of importance and relation, and she did her best to learn their names and affiliations. From time to time Ozai would whisper in his wife's ear, telling her some important piece of information about whoever was approaching them. She watched her husband as he talked and listened, his eyes happy but still burning with that concentrated intelligence that never seemed to leave them. She realised, after several hours of mingling, just how good Ozai was at politics. She had never seen him in his element, discussing the war and other matters of importance. He had a silver tongue, she knew, she had heard, but it was entirely different to see how his mind worked up close. After hours of talking, receiving endless gifts and good wishes, the party was dying down. Ursa watched as her husband finished off his glass of wine and surveyed the room. The music was much quieter then, the music had ended, and apparently Azulon was supposed to make a toast of some kind to end the party.

"Are you looking for your father?" Ursa asked quietly. They were seated next to each other on a raised dias. Ozai nodded,

"Yes," he paused, still looking around the room, "He probably got talking with some diplomat." Eventually Azulon made his way to the dias and raised a glass.

"We toast tonight to the union of my son, Ozai, and his marriage to Ursa, granddaughter of Avatar Roku. The Fire Sages tell me that this is a powerful lineage, of which I agree. May you bear many healthy heirs for our nation."

* * *

Ursa stood pateiently in her new dressing room as servants fluttered about. They moved silently around her, removing her wedding gown and jewelry. The luxurious fabric came off her in pieces, each time many knots being removed in the process. It was a complicated ordeal, and it struck her to think that she would be dressing so formally everyday now that she was a princess. A shiver ran down her spine, and she wasn't sure whether it was from feeling the cool air of the room against her back or if it was because of her anxiety for what was to come next. She wasn't sure that she was ready to go through with it. Her whole life she had been told her virtue was her most important quality, and it seemed strange to break something that she had tied to her character for so long.

When the servants removed her undergarments she almost protested, but she forced herself to swallow her pride and allowed them to continue. When had been stripped of all her clothing she let out a shaky breath, and she immediately knew it was obvious how nervous she was.

"Do not be nervous, Princess Ursa," one servant said as she held out a silken nightgown, "I'm sure the Prince will not be disappointed with you." Ursa slipped on her dressing robe and looked over the servant who had spoken. She had a pretty face and grey-blue eyes, uncommon in the Fire Nation. In all honesty Ursa wasn't sure whether the maid had spoken out of turn or not, but frankly she didn't care. The reassurance was nice to hear.

"You're sure?" Ursa asked as her belt was tied by another servant.

"Yes, Princess. He is completely taken with you. He has been for some time." At that, Ursa smiled, and suddenly she wondered why she had been so unafraid. The servant girl was right. It was all the new scenery, and the excitement, that was what had scared her. There was no need to fear him.

She was dressed in a black robe, embroidered very beautifully with white silken flowers. It looked and felt extremely expensive against her bare skin. Ursa briefly wondered if Ozai had chosen such a garment for her. The servants finished removing her jewelry and then the brushed out her long hair. It was wavy from being in braids all day, and she quite liked the way it looked. After her makeup was removed the servants washed her face and applied a gloss to her lips. Finally, a hint of jasmine perfume. She was ready.

The servants bowed and Ursa did as well.

"Goodnight," she said faintly.

"Goodnight, Princess Ursa," they responded in unison. When they were gone there was nothing but for her to venture out into the room beyond. She was not entirely sure where she was, but she did her best to find her way, walking through a corridor that led to several rooms and then to the main room that Ursa recognized from before.

"Beautiful," Ozai sighed, and Ursa turned around sharply to see him standing behind her. Ozai, too, was in his night robe, although his was deep red in color.

"Thank you," she breathed, smiling as she walked towards him. He was smiling, too, and he looked entirely handsome. He pulled her towards him, his hands on her waist as he held her. Her heart was beating very fast, but she was eager to feel him kiss her now that they were in private. His lips were warm against hers, and she could feel a blush on her cheeks as he kissed her. Just when she expected him to continue, he pulled away. Ursa blinked, her cheeks helplessly flushed as he pulled away to open up his bedroom doors.

"They're lighting fireworks for us, Ursa. Come, look," he said, holding her hand and pulling her over to the balcony. Ursa didn't even have time to look over his massive bedroom before he had ushered her outside. The balcony was the same polished dark wood of the palace, adorned with a small table and chairs. Ursa looked up at the fireworks as Ozai poured champagne for the two of them. As he came up behind her he held out a glass for her and she took it, but Ozai stopped her before she could take a sip.

"A toast," he proposed, and Ursa raised her glass with his. Ozai was still smiling, and it was making her feel things she had never felt before. He looked so happy, she could see it in his eyes. Ursa was not accustomed to seeing them like that, so bright and full of joy. There was no amount of calculation in them, so careful manipulation, it was just him. She smiled at that as he drew her in close to him. He spoke quietly over the sound of the fireworks, but she could still hear his every word.

"To my beautiful, enchanting wife. The woman who has made me feel what I have never felt before. The woman who makes me happy beyond my wildest dreams." Ursa exhaled softly, feeling a rush of calm come over her as he spoke. His words ran through her in waves of passion and longing. She smiled wider.

"And to my handsome, charming husband. The man who has stolen my heart. The man I know is the only one for me. He's charismatic, magnetic... electric," she sighed a bit, looking up at him under her thick eyelashes, "and I love him, I love him, I love him." Ozai's smile was only growing, and he pulled her in closer, all the way to his chest, and a warm feeling was blossoming that she knew wasn't from the wine. It was so intense she almost felt faint, and then Ozai was kissing her deeply, taking her breath away. After he had kissed her to his content he remained close to her, breathing with her while the fireworks burst overhead. They stayed like that for a while, and then Ozai moved to press his lips to the crown of her head.

"I love you too, darling." Once they had watched the rest of the fireworks show, and their glasses were drained, they moved into his room. Ozai lit the candles in his room as Ursa looked around, taking in the vastness of the space. His room was an odd shape, she thought. As you entered from the main dark double doors the massive bed was straight ahead, against the back wall. It was decadent and distinctively royal, the dark wood of the posters carved into intricate designs. On both sides of the back wall there were doors to the outer balcony, so there were doors where there would usually be corners. Ozai pulled the sheer red curtains over the glass of the balcony door and the room felt much more intimate. As Ursa continued to look around she saw a grand wardrobe covered almost entirely by gold designs of dragons, but composed of the same dark wood as the rest of the furniture. There were also several dressers, and on the other sides a beautifully carved bookshelf completely full with various texts and scrolls. His personal collection, she assumed.

"Do you like it?" He asked, walking towards his wife. Ursa smirked.

"Yes, very much. It's so beautiful, I can hardly imagine living in it." She explained, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. Ozai chuckled.

"I didn't mean the room," he explained, "I meant the books. Do you often read?" He asked, and Ursa almost scoffed at him.

"Yes, of course I do." Ozai raised an eyebrow.

"Not everyone enjoys reading, you know," Ozai retorted. Ursa scoffed.

"How foolish. Reading is wonderful." She moved closer to his bookcase and ran her finger over the books, some of them new, and some of them almost ancient in appearance.

"I have several first editions that I have collected over the years. Most of them Firebending scrolls, though, so I doubt you'd be interested." Ursa listened as she read over some of the titles.

"The yomihon," she exclaimed, looking back to him, "You read romantic novels?" Ozai almost blushed. He had never had anyone go through his personal things.

"Sometimes," he admitted, "Is that so horrible?" He teased, and Ursa smirked back at him.

"No... I like it when you're romantic." Ozai couldn't help but smile when he heard that, and with a hand he pulled her over to him.

"Good." They stood together by his bed as he ran his fingers through her hair. It was soft as it slipped through his fingers, and he sighed as he continued to touch her. He ran his hand over the curve of her cheek and the length of her pale neck before he leaned in to kiss her there. He had never kissed her there, and the sensation of his lips and his goatee on her neck sent wonderful shivers down her spine. As moved back to kiss her lips he let his hands trail down her her sides. She was pressed up against him, her hands on his chest and she moved them up to his shoulders to draw him closer as the kiss continued. He was making quick work of her, his tongue massaging hers in a series of sensual glides that made her feel weak in the knees. He obviously knew what he was doing; sucking and kissing her lips and tongue while her heart pounded furiously in her throat. It felt so good that when his hand inched up to cup her breast she barely noticed. It wasn't until he began massaging her flesh there that she got startled by the feeling. All too suddenly she broke the kiss and backed away from him, her chest pounding and entirely out of breath. Her cheeks were flushed when she drew away from him, her eyes wide open as she realized what she had done. Ozai scowled.

"What?" He looked disturbed, and Ursa felt a wave of shame roll over her. She stepped closer to him, her brows furrowed.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, "I didn't mean to- I'm sorry."

"Why? Do you not want me to-" Ursa cut him off,

"No, I do! I just- I'm never done this before… I've always been told never to let a man touch me, it's-I'm not used to it," her words came out rushed and off beat. At her response, Ozai sighed a breath of relief. He held her once more in his arms.

"It's understand. I should have given you a bit of a warning, I suppose…" He replied, and Ursa was looking down at his chest, blushing.

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable," he continued, and Ursa looked up as he backed away a bit. She knew she would ruin it. She ruined everything. Here she had been thinking of this for nearly a year and when he actually began doing the things she always dreamed of she flinched.

"No, don't stop," she pleaded, "I want to continue." Ozai exhaled,

"Good." He sat down on the edge of his bed, looking at the beautiful woman that was his wife. He was thinking.

"You start then. Go at your own pace, I won't rush you." Ursa was breathing heavily, still winded from his kisses. In her eyes there was a bit of apprehension. She wasn't sure what it was she wanted, from what she had gleaned about sex the man was always the initiate. Ozai sensed her apprehension.

"You can touch me, if you want," he said, and then Ursa smiled, almost as a thank you for him telling her what to do. She came closer until her knees were brushing with his. Touch him where? Suddenly his hands took hers and brought them to his chest. Ursa sighed. His touch was so warm, it was like fire. She let her hands slide over his body, over his shoulders, through his hair, down his arms. He felt so hard to the touch, she couldn't help but wonder what he looked like underneath his robe. But then, she supposed, it was their wedding night, and she shouldn't scold herself for such lustful thoughts.

"Take off your robe," she said gently, and Ozai smirked deviously. She wondered for a moment just how Ozai might have taken that. He stood up, and Ursa stood back a bit as she watched him untie the knot by his waist. She held her breath without realizing it as the robe slipped off his shoulders and fell to the floor. Thankfully, he was wearing undergarments, for if he was not Ursa surely would have fainted at the sight. Not to say that she had never seen a semi-nude man before, it was just that Ozai was unlike any man she had ever seen. He was solid muscle; his arms, pectorals and abdomen were chiseled like she had never seen in her life. She simply stood there, staring at him, for a moment or so. She couldn't imagine the time that he spent on firebending and training to look to toned. After a few seconds of Ursa staring helplessly at him Ozai couldn't help but laugh a bit.

"What?" He asked as he watched her look at him with wide eyes. Ursa placed her hand over her chest for a bit as she continued to stare, and then she took the step back towards him.

"Gods," she breathed, not really knowing what to say. "You're beautiful." She blushed again at her own strange choice of words. Ozai laughed.

"I think that's what I'm supposed to say to you, darling." He smirked, kissing his wife again. Ursa could feel waves of desire pulsing through her and for once she told herself not to deny them. This was what she had wanted to do for so long. She sighed and tried to get her breath back.

"Of course, for that, you would have to let me see what you look like," Ozai ventured, suavely. He didn't want to rush, and yet, at the same time, he was dying to have her. He had waited for so long to see her, to feel her. Ursa let out another shaky breath.

"I want you to do it," she said quietly, her heart seriously threatening to leap out of her chest at the thought. She could barely breathe. It was so electrifying, so consuming, when his hands reached for the knot on her waist. While he was untying it he noticed that she was barely breathing, her cheeks a furious pink, and he stopped momentarily.

"Are you sure?" He said, dying she would tell him to continue. She nodded. So then he removed the belt and it fell to the floor, but Ursa still had a hand on her robe, keeping it together. Ozai sat back on the bed and ushered her over.

"When you're ready," he said simply, making eye contact with her. She was only a teenager, he reminded himself, and she had none of the experience he had. He remembered when he was nervous the first time, too. It took a lot of courage, exposing yourself to someone so completely. But, to his surprise, she smiled, and then she bit her lip. Her hands faltered, gripped around the silk, but then, slowly but surely, she removed the gown. The silk slid off her shoulders and fell to the floor, like his did, but she wasn't wearing anything at all. Now it was Ozai's turn to be struck speechless. He looked over her pale body, and his mouth fell open at the beauty of her. She was flawless, he thought. Her breasts, pale in the glow of the candlelight, were softly sculpted and puckered, no doubt from the cool nighttime air, and they looked entirely appetizing. As his eyes ventured downwards he sighed at the sight of her sculpted waist and wide, feminine hips. Her legs, too, were curved and beautifully shaped, and he could feel himself becoming aroused simply from looking at her.

"Ursa, you're perfect." He exhaled, smiling gently as he reached out to touch her. He felt her arms first, so soft to the touch, and then he had to remember to go slowly with her. He leaned forward to kiss her sternum, and when he did he felt her heartbeat, fast and heavy against her ribcage. He placed his hand to her stomach to try and calm her, his touch as gentle as he could be.

"Ursa?" He simply asked, looking up at her amber eyes. She stared right back at him, and she stepped a bit closer.

"Keep going," she said, barely more than a whisper. He did. His hands and his mouth covered every inch of her skin, and he sucked gently on her nipples, using his tongue there and drawing countless moans from her.

"Ozai!" She felt so weak in the knees she almost fell over. Ozai was quick to pull her into his lap, and she gasped at the sensation of being so close to him. They were a breath away from one another and she immediately kissed him, the feeling of his bare chest against hers sending pleasurable shivers down her spine to her core. The more he kissed, the more she felt it, and as they continued he pulled her even closer, so that she was flush against him. When he did she felt something hard pressed against her belly and pulled back from the kiss. She knew what it was, her cousins had explained it, and so she tried not to look frightened as she felt it pressing against her.

"Ozai," she breathed, realizing just how far they had gotten. Ozai looked just as desperate as she felt. Then, suddenly, he was flipping them over so she was beneath him. As he laid her down his hands moved over breasts and her stomach, and he loved the feeling of her softness there. She was holding her legs tightly together as he did so, and he reached up to grasp her knees. When she realized what he wanted her to do she flushed even further, and it took everything in her to let him spread her legs apart. He was staring at her then, completely, and she was mortified by the thought.

"Darling," he practically purred, running a finger down her body until he reached her slick folds, daringly running his finger between them. Ursa moaned helplessly as he did so, her lust growing to a head. She encouraged him without realizing it and so he kept going, his fingers kneading and exploring her most sensitive flesh. Shock waves of pleasure were coursing through her, and she was only moaning his name in ecstasy. And then, without preamble, he got off the bed and pulled her to the edge, and then he kneeled down on the floor, his face between her legs. Ursa huffed, caught off guard completely.

"What are you doing?" She almost seethed, looking to see his smiling lips only a few inches from her crotch. Nothing her cousins had told her had prepared her for this. Ozai held her thighs in his hands, gently massaging her creamy white flesh. He smiled again.

"You'll see. Just relax." He started with a kiss to her inner thigh. It felt good, but still she was clueless as to his next endeavor. As he continued kissing the skin of her thigh he came ever closer to her center. Finally, when Ursa was almost at the point of pushing him away and crawling off the bed, he kissed her right where she wanted to be touched the most. She gapsed. He kissed her clit, ever so gently at first, and then he proceeded to suck on the little orb there that made her squeal so enticingly. Ursa was losing her mind in pleasure. She had never dared dream of such a thing. He was tracing his tongue in between her folds, and the pulses of pleasure were only increasing. She wanted more, more, so much more. She was almost screaming when he returned to sucking on her clit, and sure enough, a few moments later, she could feel the climactic pulses of orgasm flowing through her.

"Ozai!" She moaned, her legs coming together around his head. His hands were holding her hips as he continued to suck so intently, drawing out the waves of her orgasm. Ursa was seeing stars and in her bliss she fell back on the bed, her hair fanned out beneath her. She could still feel a pulsing ache within her, even after her orgasm, and she knew she wanted so much more. She wanted him.

"Ozai," she sighed, breathing so heavily that she could barely get the word out. Ozai smiled devilishly as he came back onto the bed, wiping the remnants of her arousal from his lips. He, too, was breathing heavily, and his face as red as hers.

"How was that?" He asked, crawling back onto the bed. Ursa was still in the afterglow of her orgasm and she looked like an angel. He smirked as he saw her dazed expression.

"You're amazing," she moaned, not caring at all how it sounded, "That was amazing." Ozai chuckled heartily, pleased at his ability to inspire such pleasure in her.

"Oh, we've only just begun, darling."

* * *

A/N: Please Review! It inspires me to hear your feedback. Also, please tell me if you notice any grammar/spelling errors.


	14. silk and satin

chapter fourteen: silk and satin

* * *

Ursa shifted back against the silken pillows until she was leaning comfortably against the headboard. Ozai was quick to kiss her, wrapping her legs around his hips as he did so. Ursa was growing impatient, however. She broke the kiss, lightly pushing against his bare chest. Ozai caught her gaze, searching. He could see the lust there in her amber eyes and he smirked, moving to lay gentle kisses to her earlobe. With one hand he reached down between them and stroked her, playing with the little nub there until she was twitching and writhing under his touch once more.

"Ozai," she moaned, and whether it was encouragement or a reprimand he didn't know. The smirk was still on his lips as she moaned for him and he knew it was time.

"Are you ready?" He asked, his voice low and sultry. Ursa was breathing huskily in his ear, and as he pulled back to look at her he found her as flushed as ever. Her lips were red and swollen from his many kisses, utter perfection to his jealous soul. She was his now. His alone.

"Yes," she whispered, nodding her head. Ozai's smirk morphed into a smile as he leaned back from her, his hands taking hers. As he was upright he guided her hands to his waistband.

"Go ahead," he said. Ursa visibly swallowed, seeing the bulge there. She was slightly frightened as she wasn't entirely sure what he wanted. She wished she had more instruction, she realized. Ozai was there to guide her, however, taking her hand and placing it where he wanted to be touched most. Ursa understood, then, and slowly but surely she stroked him through the fabric. Ozai moaned and leaned into her hand, encouraging her. Ursa's excitement was only increasing as she continued to touch him; hearing the moans she was eliciting in him was pleasurable, no longer frightening. Eventually Ozai decided he couldn't stand the suspense any longer.

"Take it off," he said huskily, looking down at his wife. Her eyes went wide and she looked up at him only to quickly look away, telling herself to shake off her nervousness. She took a breath before she relented, untying the string of his waistband and then pulling the the fabric down slowly. When she saw him in his entirety she bit her lip and looked away, her blush reaching the roots of her hair. Thankfully Ozai wasn't offended, however, and he lightly chuckled as she was turned away, removing his undergarments and throwing them off the bed. He moved close to her again, his hands moving her legs around his own. Ursa gasped again at the feeling of his bare thighs sliding against her own, so new and unfamiliar. Ozai took his hand and cupped her head, turned to the side, and brought her back to face him. She licked her lips, her chest heaving as she felt pulses of both fear and arousal moving through her. She liked the feeling of his hand cupping her cheek, but the sensations of having his bare body moving against her was unexplored territory.

"Ursa?" He asked, himself somewhat out of breath. He could see the nervousness in her now and scowled. To test her reaction he gyrated his hips, lightly moaning as he felt her slick heat against him. She almost jumped at the sensation, locking eyes with him. He moved his hand to cup her cheek once more, smoothing his thumb over her pale skin. Ursa's heartbeat slowed down once she looked in his golden eyes; so familiar, and and yet so new. He leaned in to kiss her and as he did she slid her arms around his back. It was smooth and muscular, and as she touched him he only moved closer to her. They broke apart from the kiss but he remained so close, resting his forehead against hers. They breathed together for a moment before he asked,

"Are you sure?" Ursa closed her eyes and nodded. Ozai slid a hand beneath her neck, lifting her head slightly to kiss her as he entered her. She broke the kiss, of course, and let out a short cry of pain against his lips. Ozai tried to keep himself from moaning in pleasure as he snapped his hips, fully inside her. When he opened his eyes he found her head thrown back, her expression pained. She huffed when he moved back slightly and he knew the worst was over.

"Ursa," he sighed at the pleasure, smoothing her hair back as he kissed her temple. He almost groaned again when she tensed up around him. He cupped her chin and forced her to look at him. When he saw her eyes watering he grimaced. She took a few deep breaths, moving past the pain as Ozai kissed her her cheek and her temple.

"Don't tense," he scolded, his hand smoothing over her lower belly, "relax." Ursa looked up at her husband, her amber eyes wide. She tried to focus but she felt as if she was out of her own skin. There was some part of her that didn't want to think that it was real. Not because she didn't want it to be, but rather because her childhood had stretched on for so long that even when she felt herself a woman she was regarded as a child, never allowed the respect of an adult. It was then, in his bed, that she felt her childhood come crashing down, her innocence and naivety broken as he moved in-between her thighs. He pushed in to her again, moaning in her ear, and it became ever so clear that she was not going to be regarded as a child anymore. She was a woman.

Her mind had to catch up to her body, however, and it did, waves of pleasure coursing through her as he moved inside her. Her hands were still on his back, and she could feel the silky tresses of his hair falling over the skin of her neck and shoulder with each thrust. Ursa shifted a bit and tried to come out of the daze she had been in. It wasn't that hard. When his hand went to her breast she sighed in pleasure, snapping her hips up to his on instinct alone.

"Ursa," he whimpered, "Yes, yes, like that." Another moan escaped him and she smiled slightly, happy to be inspiring so much pleasure. The room was dark, save for a few candles, and she liked how the dim light illuminated the muscles of his back and the shine in his hair. As he sucked on her breast all she did was moan as she was supposed to, letting herself take everything in; every sensation, every touch, it was brand new, and the less she thought about it the more she found herself enjoying it. She leaned her head back as Ozai shifted back to his knees, his gaze only for his new wife, admiring the way she looked as he took her. Her mouth was slightly parted, her hair fanned out around her like a halo. Ozai smiled, stroking her thighs as he continued. The one thing he didn't like was that her eyes were closed now. An idea formed in his head, and so he slid an arm behind her back and pulled her up to his chest, her legs tucked underneath her. Ursa gasped at the new connection because she was literally sitting on his lap, feeling every part of him against her. She realized that she was the one expected to take the lead now, so she lifted her hips slightly before bringing them back down, experimentally, trying to mimic the movements he had made against her.

"Ozai," she moaned, sinking into him once again, her hips finding their own rhythm. Ozai pulled her even closer, until her bare chest was pressed up against his own, and he kissed her again - this time slow and languid. It wasn't long, however, until romance was overshadowed by passionate lust, and he was thrusting into her again, uttering low oaths as he felt the pressure increasing within him, within both of them. Ursa could barely catch her breath as they neared the end, her sight lost and her mind filled with nothing but the sweet torturous sensations he was inflicting upon her. Every snap of his hips made her feel more lustful than the last, and not even her most licentious nighttime fantasies could compare to this feeling; the feeling of being one. He came inside her with a sound like thunder, the vibrations moving through her and making her shiver with pleasure. She let out a shallow breath and smoothed her thumb over his jaw, as they both basked in the afterglow, a companionable silence filling the room. He pulled out then, a loath-full l sensation, and it was then that she could distinctly feel the consummation of their pleasure, sticky, between her thighs.

"I love you," he says, the words soft in the vastness of his room, but loud just the same. He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering there. She knew he meant it. She knew because that feeling still pounding inside her chest was not apprehension, or fear. Ursa looked her husband in the eyes, and the connection there felt stronger then; the bond much deeper than anything she had ever experienced before.

"I love you too."

This time she kissed his lips. When he pulled away she slid under the satin sheets, watching as he extinguished the remaining candles. He moved to the bed and slid in beside her, only a very faint amount of moonlight allowing her to see him in the darkness. He moved close to her, very close, so they were only inches apart. Ursa was too tired to smile now, the length of the day finally weighing on her, but she eagerly reached out with her hand to cup her husband's face, feeling the skin of his jaw and the softness of his lips. He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing in both exhaustion and pleasure as he placed his hand over hers. It was a tender moment, and very briefly Ursa realized the softness of her husband's character. His solemn resolve was completely dismantled by his love, but Ursa liked it that way. This part of him, this tender part, was hers, and she could take this feeling and hold on to it. She could learn all his tender emotions and keep them as her own. And in that way, she knew he trusted her. For his gifts of gems and gowns, no matter how lovely, could not possibly compare to the gift he gave her that night, for it was something no one else had ever received: his heart.

A/N: I know this is quite an explicit chapter in some regards, but I've always wanted to write one before. I often think that lemons tend to be either way too blunt/boring (leaving out all of the emotions and thoughts of the characters) or they are too romantic and drawn out. Many times I also think they are often either too unrealistically amazing or too unrealistically painful. Usually, for the first time, its somewhere in between. In real life there is a bit of sexiness, a bit of fear, and a bit of awkwardness that all sort of blend together into one experience. I hope I captured that.

Side note:I certainly do not think that someone automatically becomes an adult when they have sex for the first time, nor do I think you need to have sex to be a real adult. These are Ursa's thoughts, mostly caused by the traditional society she was brought up in.

In response to sophgoph: This is the way that I have always been taught to structure dialogue. Perhaps there was a paragraph or two that confused you, but I follow normal grammar rules when it comes to structuring dialogue and my professors have never found anything wrong about my writing in that regard.

In response to K2: Thank you very much! Here's the new chapter! It's short, but I hope it's consolation for now, at least.


	15. sunrise

chapter fifteen: sunrise

The gentle light of early dawn was upon her face. Not yet yellow, but rather a warm pink visible through the curtains of his room. It was a kind light, not too different from the darkness, and yet it made all the difference. He could see every gentle arch and curve of her face, and the perfection of her rendered him silent - in awe. Her rosebud lips were still glossy and as delectable as ever. They were calling to him, but he didn't want to wake her. It was still so warm and luxurious, lying there in bed, the calmness of sleep still remaining in him. It was her skin, however that he couldn't help himself but touch. She was like a porcelain doll, except, she was real and breathing underneath his sheets. The sweet curve of her cheeks and her nose and her eyes made something boil in him. And for once, it wasn't anger. It was an entirely different kind of heat, and he almost felt uncomfortable in its newness. With the back of his finger, Ozai stroked the luminous skin of her face and her collarbones.

She was partially turned, her head turned towards him on the bed with her dark brown hair fanned out on the pillow and her hand closest to him laying open but gracefully curved by her face. The satin blankets covered most of her, ending at the top of her chest, allowing him just a glimpse of the delicate curves of her breasts. Compared with the dark red of the blankets, Ursa's milky white skin was entirely appetizing and completely enchanting. She looked like an angel. And the longer Ozai looked at her, the more that the strange feeling in his chest strengthened, as if he wanted to _do_ something so urgently, but he had no idea what that was. It was a strange feeling. In some ways it simply felt as if he simply wanted to kiss her, and indeed he did want to be closer to her, but that was not truly the feeling within him. It was entirely different than lust and he almost angered himself in comparing it with something as simple as that. He would be kissing her for an entirely different reason.

Then, however, the feeling was overcome by drowsiness and Ozai decided it was best to give into sleep, for it was only dawn, and he did not want to ruin his first morning with his wife by leaving her alone when she rose. He lowered himself back down onto the bed and almost sighed at the feeling of the luxurious bed sheets against his bare skin. Ozai shifted a bit closer to his wife, feeling the warmth of her skin calling to him, and closed his eyes.

* * *

The first thing Ursa heard were the birds. It was strange, really, because they were such a familiar sound to her. She had awoken to the sound of birds every day as a child. But these birds, these were different. She opened her eyes suddenly in a flutter of lashes, and blinked rapidly as she took in her surroundings. The room she was in was beautiful and vaguely foreign. There were sheer curtains on either side of her, gentle chiffon bed hangings that moved slightly with the morning breeze. They were the first thing she saw, but quickly her eyes open fully and she noticed the vastness of the space. Ozai's room was very wide, with tall ceilings decorated in gold leafing. It was beautiful, and Ursa hadn't noticed it the night before as it had been too dark. Then, suddenly, Ursa remember the night before and remembered where she was. She turned over in bed, looking for her husband. She found not in bed beside her but rather standing at the terrace to her right, looking down at the city below. The sun was shining brightly, light shining in from the terraces on both sides of the bedroom. Ozai had thrown the terrace doors open, welcoming in the light and the morning breeze. It was lovely. Very faintly Ursa could smell the sea.

For a moment Ursa simply watched her husband. He was dressed in a dark silk shirt and pants, but his hair was still down and he wore no shoes. The morning light warmed his dewy features. When Ursa turned in bed she suddenly realized her nakedness under the silken sheets, drawing the fabric up her chest to cover herself more appropriately. Ozai heard her stir, turning to her and offering a gentle smile.

"Good morning," he breathed, his voice soft and deep. Ursa smiled back as Ozai sat down on the bed, disturbing the sheets. He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead.

"Good morning," Ursa responded, smiling lightly as Ozai brushed his hand over her hair and her cheek. Then suddenly, his lips went for her mouth, another soft kiss landing there before he pulled away.

"How did you sleep?" he asked, his thumb grazing her cheek. His eyes were lower now, ghosting over Ursa's exposed skin.

"Well," she said, "too well, I'm afraid. I overslept." The sun was higher in the sky than she had originally thought.

"Nonsense," he rebuked, "You're a princess now, my darling. You can spend your days as you like." When Ursa looked up at him he was smirking.

"So I should bathe in milk and eat sweet mochi all day, awaiting your arrival?" Ursa asked, a tease for her new husband. Ozai chuckled heartily in her ear.

"I fear you might become too beautiful with all that pampering, my dear. The goddesses will grow jealous of you," he teased her back, taking a lock of her dark hair around his finger. Ursa shot him a look and he leaned back from her.

"Ozai, where are my clothes?" Ursa asked, then, still aware of her nakedness. Ozai looked down at her bare shoulders and arms.

"Do you really need them?" He asked, a giddy smile on his face. He was climbing into bed, then, the idea of her nakedness too appealing in his mind. He climbed into the bed and kissed her neck and her shoulders while she giggled underneath him.

"Yes," she said, her words not a reprimand but a tease. It was rather late in the morning. She had overslept. Ozai was still close to her, his face only inches away, and he kissed her brow.

"I'll send the maids in," he said, and then he stood up from the bed and exited the room through a door unknown to Ursa. She waited there in silence for a few moments, the sound of the birds providing an accompiable quietness. It reminded her a little of the morning before, when she was only a magistrate's daughter. Much had changed in such a short expanse of time. She was no longer her father's daughter. Now, she was her husband's wife. The fire princess.

And just as her moment of quiet had ended the previous morning, it was ended again, this time by the opening of the double doors of the bedroom. Ursa's eyes went wide at the intrusion as she saw in the entryway many maids and a headmistress of the household, held in higher authority than them, her head held higher when she bound. Her clothes were of finer quality and style than the others, ode to her rank. She bowed gracefully along with the multitude of handmaidens behind her.

"Good morning, Princess Ursa," she began, recovering from her bow, "I am Lady Fumiko, headmistress of the household." Fumiko entered then, with ladies following, and came closer to the side of the bed.

Ursa, not knowing quite what to do in her awkward position, bowed her head slightly. She was in an uncomfortable position on the bed, half sitting up and half lying down, her nakedness apparent to her. She blushed to the roots of her hair as the maids simply stared at her. She could only imagine what they were thinking.

One of the maids approached the bed holding an ornate golden tray laden with wrappings and a juban, her underdress. Ursa realized she was supposed to stand, then, and she did, trying not to be sheepish as she was completely bare. The headmistress did not look down and the maids did not change in expression but it made her uncomfortable still as they assembled her wrappings. The privacy she was afforded in her formative years was gone. After the juban was wrapped around her the maid appeared again, this time with a kimono of fine crimson silk.

"Does it please you, Princess Ursa?" Fumiko asked, gently opening the silken fabric to show Ursa the design.

"Yes, very much." Ursa smiled lightly. This was all so foreign. The titles, the formality of the ceremony. It was not what Ursa had been accustomed to. Back on her home island life was slower and simpler, and names were not weighted down by heavy titles and proper speech. The capitol was a whole other world. When her kimono had been assembled she was seated at the vanity. A few of the maids began to apply makeup and powder while the others changed the sheets. Ursa watched them through the large mirror of her vanity and caught a brief glimpse of red on white. Blood. Ursa blushed again. She did not know how to feel about them knowing such intimate details of her life. It was normal for a princess, it not normal for Ursa. She thought on that subject for several minutes while the maids plated her hair, braided it, and painted her lips crimson. Her old life was gone, and she should not ache for the past. After all, she had been ever so eager to be here, to be a woman and not a child. Not only was it unbecoming to think such things, it was stupid. This was what she wanted.

It was a strange feeling, because really, what had she accomplished? She had secured a prince, and made herself royalty. What did it really come down to? Her ability to earn Ozai's affections. Ursa blinked, thinking of the months before. She hadn't really done very much. What was it that had attracted him? Her beauty? It was such an odd thing, love. The chances of it were so small. Ursa briefly thought back to that night, so many months ago, when she had met him in the garden. It was only by chance that she decided to go to that section of the garden, at the same time he did. If they hadn't met she'd be back home in Hira'a, still under her parents oppressive thumb. She shouldn't look back, she decided. She should never look back.

"Where is my husband?" Ursa asked, turning to Fumiko who had approached her.

"He is ready to see you now, Princess. I will show you to the breakfast room." Her manners and speech were stoic and proper, much like an old school teacher. Fumiko did have a sense of grace to her character, but it was cold and dulled by so many years of routine. It was a cold grace, one Ursa hoped she never would adapt. It made Fumiko seem much older than she really was.

"The breakfast room?" Ursa raised a brow at her older counterpart, "Is there a room for each meal of the day here?" Her words were not quite sarcastic, but lightly teasing in a way that was central to Ursa's personality.

"Yes, your highness, along with other rooms of ceremony. Prince Ozai could give you a proper tour of the palace, if he desires it, but I would be more than happy to give you one as well." Ursa nodded.

"Will you be providing guidance for me, Fumiko?" Ursa asked, a harmless question, and yet one that Fumiko was careful to answer, for fear that she would speak out of turn in some way.

"I can certainly provide guidance when you wish it Princess, although it would be entirely up to you if you follow it or not." She picked her words carefully, bowing her head when she spoke. Ursa turned her head to the side, looking at the headmistress.

"But you are not in control of me in any way?" She asked. Fumiko's eyes widened and she smirked slightly, a rare sight.

"No, madam. That is the responsibility of your husband." Ursa chucked lightly as she stood. The maids approached again, this time with a tray bearing red slippers. Ursa extended her feet one by one as the maids put them on, bowing again. Ursa almost had the urge to tell them to stop with all the ceremony but she knew she should not. It was custom. She didn't want to upset the balance in the palace, that she knew for sure. She didn't want to cause any trouble by changing the customs.

Suddenly Ursa heard a tiny gasp behind her, Fumiko's doing, and Ursa turned quickly to see what was the matter. Then she saw them, stationed at the open doors of the room. Prince Ozai was turned, standing slightly behind his father. Ursa didn't catch his gaze, she didn't have time to, for immediately she was bowing to the floor, gracefully, the way she had been taught to. Ursa no longer bowed like a maid or a little girl. Her kowtow was completely elegant, her movements languid and smooth as the touched her hands to the wooden floor, her head slightly inclined but not completely, her eyes downcast bit still open. Her hair ornaments dangled in front of her face, little beads of gold and jade. She looked up first, her eyes meeting Azulon. Then, she straightened, the epitome of grace as she stood. After many moments of silence, the Firelord smirked, huffing slightly as he looked her over. He glanced over to Ozai.

"One night and you've turned a peasant girl into a princess." Ursa looked away from the Firelord then, preferring the pretty silks of his robes to the callous coldness of his face.

"No," Ozai said, his voice warm and quiet, and Ursa looked up at him, shocked at his discourtesy much more than his father's, "She's done that all by herself."

A/N: I'm really sorry I didn't edit this yet, I will soon! New chapter should be up sometime soon (a few weeks at most). BTW I do not have a beta reader, so if anyone is interested please let me know! Thank you all...

Please review!


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